


The North Forgot

by ArizonaiceT666



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Age Difference, Aged-Up Character(s), Anal Sex, Arya Stark is a Little Shit, BAMF Arya Stark, Beauty and the Beast Elements, Breathplay, Breeding, Cheating, Crack Treated Seriously, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, F/M, Face Slapping, Face-Fucking, Fingerfucking, Hair-pulling, Internalized Misogyny, Misogyny, Multi, Non-Consensual Groping, Oral Sex, Out of Character, Rape/Non-con Elements, Really they are gonna have a bad time, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Seduction, Spanking, Stark Men have a Bad Time, Underage Sex, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-13 15:14:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 26,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28530531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArizonaiceT666/pseuds/ArizonaiceT666
Summary: [Commission]The Stark women find themselves falling into the corruptive, and seductive, grasps of the Lannisters
Relationships: Cersei Lannister/Jaime Lannister, Cersei Lannister/Jaime Lannister/Sansa Stark, Gregor Clegane/Catelyn Stark, Jaime Lannister/Sansa Stark, Joffrey Baratheon/Arya Stark
Comments: 30
Kudos: 94





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A long form commission. 
> 
> This is gonna be a long one. If you expect the Stark men to have happy endings, look elsewhere. This is about the Stark women betraying The North in favor of the Lannisters and their bannermen. 
> 
> Enjoy

The King was visiting The North.

The Kingdom of the North, the land of the Starks, was a land often ignored by the Lord of Seven Kingdoms; but now, King Robert Baratheon was headed north, to see his old friend, and the Stark patriarch Eddard Stark.

Arya was excited. She was going to meet the royal family. Things were always so boring in the North. Nothing to do in all the cold. Sansa was fine staying indoors and stitching all day, but Arya needed something more. 

She was looking forward to this.  
______________________________________________________________________________  
Catelyn Stark was dreading the visit of the king.

It was not that she disliked King Robert personally. The Baratheons and the Tully’s always had a civil relationship. It was that she just knew that the visit would take all focus away from her husband. The pair had not seen each other in nearly a decade. The leaders of Robert’s Rebellion. The defeaters of the Targaryen dynasty. That felt like eons ago. The pair would no doubt be reminiscing about the glory days of a bygone era. She knew that by the end of it, the castle would be in shambles from all the men and drinking, with no doubt that Robert would partake in a large portion of it

And what was Robert doing there anyway? Jon Arynn, her brother-in-law, had just died suddenly. Shouldn’t he be worrying about that? Shouldn’t he be in search of another hand-to-the-king. Robert was never the most responsible man, but even this seemed foolish for him. 

Yes. She could tell this would be a long few weeks.  
______________________________________________________________________________

Arya watched intently as the king’s caravan arrived. They must’ve been 100 men strong, maybe 200. Her father had guards and bannermen, but nothing like this. She, her siblings, her parents, and all the castle workers and common folk were there to try and get a glimpse. 

First came the soldiers holding the King’s sigil, then came the the elite guards. Then directly behind them, came the Prince of the Seven Kingdoms, Joffrey Baratheon. 

Arya had only heard of Joffrey. Now that she thought about it, she had only heard of all of the Lannisters and Baratheons. King’s Landing was months away by horse. 

Arya did not have much interest in boys, but she had to admit the Joffrey was a handsome young man. Strong jaw, beautiful hair, cool blue eyes. Truly regal looking. Joffrey glanced at her, caught her staring. He gave her a slight smile. Arya averted her eyes. She could feel a slight blush coming on, but she could just blame it on the cold. She looked up at her sister Sansa. She had a smile on her face, and was openly staring at Joffrey; she must of thought he was smiling at her. 

Of course she did, she thought everything was about her.

Arya was snapped out of her thoughts by the man following behind Joffrey. 

Well if you could call him a man.

Ser Gregor Clegane. The Mountain. 

Arya had never seen a man so large in her life. He had to be nearly 8 feet tall. His horse looked double the size of a normal one. He was wearing menacing, all black armor, and the sword at his side had had to be bigger than her father.

She turned her head and caught a glimpse of her mother. Her skin had grown pale, and her eyes wide. Her mother looked at her father, who also had a concerned look on his face. She leaned in to whisper to him, but Arya always had good hearing.

“Is that who I think it is? Her mother whispered harshly

“Aye. I suppose it is” He father answered, not looking at her.

“I will NOT have that man in my home.” Her mother said, eyes blazing. Her father gave her a weary look.  
“Cat-“ He tried.

“Do you know what he’s done?” She said, not really asking.

“I’ve heard the stories” He said simply. Her mother just glared at him. “He’s loyal to the Lannisters and the crown. I’ll make sure Robert has him on a short leash, alright? Now I’ll hear no more about this.” Her father stated. Her mother narrowed her eyes at him before turning back to the caravan.

Well that was interesting, Arya thought. Seems like she had to do some further investigating on the giant man.

Soon, the main attraction showed, The King. Robert Baratheon. He was fatter than she thought he’d be. She always figured a king would look…well kingly. She glanced back at Joffrey and tried to see any resemblance, but could find none. The seed must not be strong.  
______________________________________________________________________________  
Following the welcoming, a feast was thrown in Winterfell’s Great Hall. Townsfolk, guardsmen, all were welcomed to revel in the arrival of the King. Sansa was made to sit by Joffrey, while Arya was given Tommen to entertain. Sansa was, of course, happy, giggling and chittering like the silly maiden she was, making constant doe eyes at the prince. Sansa thought she had the handsome prince all to herself. Hell, word was going around that King Robert intended to wed the two, linking the houses of Baratheon and Starks.

Arya frowned at the prospect. Sansa, Sansa. Always being giving what she wanted, and for what? Because she was the oldest. Because she was the prettiest? Because she knew how to stitch dresses?

Whores could stitch dresses and be pretty, but you didn’t see them being handed the position of queen. Sansa wouldn’t make a very good whore though. She talked too much.

Arya and Sansa were beckoned over by the queen, who was sitting next to their mother. They walked over, and the queen addressed them.

“Sansa-“ Cersei said. “Such a pretty girl. Tall too, like me.”

Sansa beamed at the compliments. Arya just rolled her eyes.

“And you…” Cersei said looking over to Arya. “Remind me of your name.”

“Arya.” She said, rather annoyed that the queen didn’t bother to remember her name. She supposed she was used to it though.

“Yes, Arya. you’re very…” Cersei said, apparently searching for a compliment to give the girl. “Well you have very nice birthing hips.”

Sansa snickered at the description of her sister. Arya was not the beauty her sister was. While she was by no means an ugly girl; there are plenty of noblewoman who would in fact fit that description, but she was on the shorter side, and had boyish features. Some assumed she was Bran’s twin given how similar they looked most of their childhood. 

But what she did have, a trait she got from her mother and the Tully side of the family, was generous birthing hips. She was skinny as a rail up until the age of 14, and then suddenly, her bottom half began filling out nicely over the last 3 years; a plump ass, thick thighs, and wide hips. Sansa had always teased her for it. Truth is she was just jealous, given her petite frame; nonetheless, the constant teasing did get to Arya, who saw her figure as a negative.

Arya just frowned. Their mother dismissed them, and Arya decided she had enough of the feast and stormed out of the Great Hall. Sansa smirked, satisfied that she got under her sister’s skin. As she returned to her seat, she noticed Joffrey was nowhere to be seen She looked around, wondering where prince went.  
________________________________________________________________________________________________________  
Arya left the Great Hall for the castle in a foul mood. Her sister was always a right cunt to her. She thought just because she was the oldest, and prettiest, that she could treat her however she wanted. As if it made up for that empty head of hers. Arya was so swept up in her internal rant, that she didn’t notice the body in front of her. She bumped into them, causing her to stumble backwards on fall onto her bottom, with an OOF.

“Watch where you’re going.”

Arya was about to tell off this person for their rudeness, until she looked up, and saw that it was Joffrey staring down at. His mouth was fixed into a light scowl as he brushed off his shirt and coat. 

“Sorry…” She said looking up at him. Even in the dark, Joffrey’s blonde hair seemed to shine, and his blue eyes almost looked like they glowed.

Fuck, he’s handsome, thought Arya, as she stared up at him from below. She must’ve been staring for a tad too long, since Joffrey raised a blonde eyebrow at her.

“Aren’t you going to help me up?” Asked Arya, trying to cover her obvious staring. The prince just snorted.

“Why? You have two perfectly good hands and feet.”

“Because I’m a lady.”

“And? I’m a prince”

Arya snorted and laughed at his response. She was so used to people babying her, that it was actually refreshing to have someone not, even if it came out in a pompous attitude. She got to her feet and brushed herself off.

“Why aren’t you in there celebrating” She asked. Joffrey just rolled his eyes.

“What’s to celebrate? Riding for months to this frigid, grey wasteland.” Said Joffrey in a snide tone. While she didn’t appreciate the description of her home as a wasteland, he was right. Winterfell was grey and cold. Hell their house colors were grey. Arya looked at the gold and red in his clothing, and wondered if one day she’d have clothes as colorful as that. “Or should I be celebrating being shackled to your sister?” He said frowning.

Arya’s eyebrows shot up at the direct insult to her sister. All the boys loved Sansa. She was pretty and docile. A highborn man’s dream.

“You don’t like her?” She prodded.

“Ha! I’ve only spent half the day with her, and she’s been chattering my ear off about poems, what color she wants at her wedding, about how pretty our children will look.” He ranted mockingly. Arya let out a bark of laughter. She was starting to like the prince already.

“Should you really be speaking of your betrothed in such a way?” Arya teased. 

“Hmph. No different than how my father speaks of my mother.” He said, his tone suddenly turning solemn. Arya figured that it must be a sore subject for him.

“You know, If you don’t want to marry her, you don’t have to.” Said Arya earnestly. Joffrey just snorted and shook his head.

“Don’t be daft. I have no choice in the matter. It is my duty to my family and the crown.” He said, though Arya wasn’t entirely sure that he believed his own words. “If my father wishes me to marry Sansa, it will be done. The same will happen to you.” He said through a frown.

“Not me. I’m not going to let some lord I don’t even like take me, just because it’s my duty” She said spiritedly. 

Joffrey stared at her, and then smirked.

“So if it was a lord you DID like, you’d let them take you” He said smoothly, taking a slight step closer to her. Arya’s face went slightly red. Was he flirting with her? Arya had never been flirted with before. All the boys always gave Sansa attention. She was the pretty one after all. Yet here was the prince of the Seven Kingdoms, talking to her instead of her sister. Arya almost felt overwhelmed, but she was never one to back down from a challenge.

“Hm, maybe. They’d still have to work for it though.” She said, matching his energy. Joffrey just smiled at her more.

“You are an intriguing girl, Arya Stark.” He admitted.

“Heh, you actually know my name.” She said smiling.

“Of course I do. Why wouldn’t I?” He asked, raising a confused eyebrow.

“No reason. Well I think it’s time I made my way to my chambers.” She said, making her way past him. She looked over shoulder, sparing him a glance.

“Goodnight Joffrey.”

“Goodnight Arya.”  
______________________________________________________________________________  
Catelyn always hated feasts. 

While they were rare occasions, they always proved to be hectic. No one ever thinks about what happens AFTER a feast. Drunks staggering around everywhere, stumbling into places they don’t belong. She had already found a man passed out near one of the stables, and caught a couple fucking near the training yard. Catelyn took it upon herself to clear out the rabble, and generally her presence and disapproving scowl alone was enough to scare a commoner or guardsmen sober with apologies, and get them on their way. 

She had cleared the courtyards of the vagrants and drunk soldiers, but there was one last place to check.

The Godswood.

Catelyn never liked this godswood.

She had been born a Tully, at Riverrun far to the south, on the Red Fork of the Trident. The godswood there was a garden, bright and airy, where tall redwoods spread dappled shadows across tinkling streams, birds sang from hidden nests, and the air was spicy with the scent of flowers. The gods of Winterfell kept a different sort of wood. It was a dark, primal place, three acres of old forest untouched for ten thousand years as the gloomy castle rose around it. It smelled of moist earth and decay. 

The only redeeming feature in her eyes, were the hot springs. The springs were closed off to the common folk, and even the guardsmen. Only the Starks, Jory, and honored guests were given permissions to use them.

But nevertheless, every once in a while they have to deal with the guardsman or laborer who tries to sneak their way in. Ned usually let trespassers off with a warning, and generally that warning was all that was needed. Ned wasn't a cruel lord, but he did take respect of the Old Gods seriously.

Catelyn walked toward the springs, and she heard the sounds of someone moving in water.

Great. 

Someone was there. Just what she needed. The springs were hidden in a natural alcove of trees and rock, so it made it easy to see someone in there, before they saw you. She got closer, expecting to see a drunken guardsman and a woman.

What she did not expect to see, was the massive torso of Gregor Clegane sticking out from the water.

Catelyn froze, not daring to take another step.

Seeing Clegane out of his usual dark armor, it really dawned on her just how MASSIVE the man really was. Cat was tall for a woman, but her head just barely met his ribcage. His chest and shoulders were wide, and all muscle. He had arms like small tree trunks. He was truly a specimen of a man.

Catelyn found herself noticing something else about Clegane.

He was a handsome man. By no means matching the looks of say Jaime Lannister, but he was surprisingly well groomed, beard covering his round face. Outside of a small scar under his eye, his skin was unblemished and his complexion clear, surprising for a seasoned warrior.

He almost reminded her of Brandon.

No.

What was she thinking. To even compare the late Brandon Stark to….HIM.

She should just leave. She should get a guard, or rather several. She didn’t have to be there. She knew what he was. What he’s done. What he’s capable of.

But she told herself she wouldn’t allow any man to make her feel fear in her own home. She was the Lady of these lands and-

“Whoever’s there, best come out.-“ Interrupted Clegane’s baritone voice. It startled Catelyn, who realized she never knew what the man sounded like. The force of his voice matched him. She didn’t move, finding herself holding her breath.

“Don’t make me come and get you.” He said. It wasn’t a threat. Just a statement of fact. Catelyn staled herself. She wouldn’t be bullied in her own home, on her own lands. She stepped out, where he could see her. 

He looked at her, raising an eyebrow. His eyes looked around, then back at her.

“Lady Stark” He said simply. Even that made her uneasy.

“Clegane” she answered back sternly. “What do you think you’re doing?

Clegane lightly scowled at her. 

“What does it look like woman. I’m taking a bath. Baths rare in The North?” He said, continuing to wash himself. Catelyn’s mouth opened, and she gaped like a fish. Who was he to talk to her like that. She could have him executed if she so demanded it. She wanted to say something, to threaten him, but she thought otherwise. She was the lady of Winterfell. It was expected that she remained composed.

“The godswood springs are not for public use. I’m sure that was made clear to you and the other guards.” She said, trying to keep her tone under control.

“Aye, but I’m not a guard. I am a knight, and head of the House of Clegane. That makes me a “honored” guest.” He said.

Catelyn once again found herself at a loss for words. This wasn’t how she expected this conversation to go. The Mountain was thought to be a dim man, least that’s what she’s heard. But here he was, talking a circle around her.

“You weren’t INVITED.” She said throughout gritted teeth. Clegane simply turns his back to the woman, letting her get a glimpse of this muscular back.

“Leave me be woman.” He said, not looking at her.

“Now look here Clegane, I don’t care that the king brought you along for whatever reason. I am the lady of this house, and you will follow the laws of this castle! Now remove yourself from that spring before I retrieve my guardsmen.” She said, leaving no room for argument or misinterpretation. She had had enough of his lip.

“Meaning they’re not here.” He suddenly said.

“What?” 

“You said retrieve.” Clegane faced her again as he spoke.” Meaning they’re not here already. It’s just you and me.” He said, as if talking to a child. Catelyn was about to retort, when the full implications of his words dawned on her. 

She was there alone with him. 

And she just openly threatened him. The Mountain. The man of unspeakable deeds.

She was about to turn tail and run, when he suddenly moved, throwing one huge leg over the edge of the spring, and began climbing out. He was extremely quick for his size. 

Catelyn took a half step back as he exited the spring. He was in a squatting position, and then stood to his full, massive height.

Catelyn eyes went wide as she took in the man; steam coming off his muscular form. She didn’t know why, but her eyes moved themselves downward from his face, to his chest, down his stomach, to his-

Oh.

Oh gods.

Catelyn was looking at the biggest cock she’s ever seen in her life. 

Not that she had seen many. 

She had of course seen Ned’s, who was…adequately endowed. 5 inches was completely acceptable she told herself. It got the job done; giving her children, and continuing the blood line. 

She had also seen Brandon’s manhood decades ago, something she never told Ned of course. During his courting of her, one night he got drunk, and cornered her in a corridor. He exposed himself to her, telling her he couldn’t wait to be inside her. He was larger than Ned. Around 7 and one half inches. At the time, Catelyn thought that that would never fit.

But Clegane, The Mountain, was something entirely different. His cock was massive, swinging between his legs. it had to hang at least 12 inches, and the wasn’t even hard. It was thick as her forearm. It was covered in veins, and it looked as if it was pulsing. His balls were the size of a man’s fist. They looked so FULL. 

Catelyn found herself thinking about Elia Martell. Everyone knew what Clegane did to Elia Martell and her family during the sack of King’s Landing. How he raped her, and then cut her in half. Least that’s what the stories say. He killed her with two weapons that day. His sword, and the massive bitch breaker hanging between his legs.  
Suddenly Clegane took a step toward her, and then another. Catelyn stood frozen as he walked towards her, cock swinging side to side between her legs.

Well, this is how it was going to end. 

Raped, split in half by Gregor Clegane in a place that’s supposed to be holy. Maybe she deserved it, she thought, for being too cocky, showing up without any protection, trying to tell a man like The Mountain what to do. Maybe if she didn’t fight, he’d spare the children.

He stepped closer once again, now close enough to reach her with an outstretched arm if he chose. She just stared at him, well rather his cock as he came within feet of her.

And then he walked right past her.

Catelyn let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. She turned and saw Clegane was gathering his clothes from a flat rock he had set them on. She stared at him, thoughts. in disarray.

Clegane looked over his shoulder at her, then continued to walk away, out of her sight.

Catelyn felt her knees shake before giving out. She dropped down to the ground, letting out a shuddering breath. 

She really hated these godswood.

______________________________________________________________________________

Sansa was pouting. The prince, her soon to be prince, was nowhere to be seen. 

She was so excited when her parents told her that King Robert was interested in marrying her to Joffrey. She was going to be a princess; the queen one day!

Well that was the plan at least. Nothing was official yet, and her mother seemed hesitant to the idea. But why wouldn’t she want her to be happy? She swore if she didn’t get to marry Joffrey, she would just die. She starve herself. Throw herself from the highest tower. She just had to marry him. She had to!

First she had to find him though. He had been at the feast, naturally Sansa was keeping him company, and then suddenly he was gone. Gods, she hopped Arya didn’t somehow scare him away. She wouldn’t be surprised. Arya was always ruining things. She never knew her place. She was the younger sister. She was supposed to be quiet, and get whatever Sansa didn’t want. But no, she had to always go and make a nuisance of herself. 

Sansa searched the courtyards, hoping that Joffrey hadn’t already retired to bed. All of his family was still in the Great Hall, so maybe he was close by. She turned a corner, and saw none other than Jaime Lannister standing off in the distance. He was appreciating a blacksmithing station, hands running over the tools, admiring the forge. Perhaps he knew where her prince ran off to. They were going to be family soon after all, so she’d better introduce herself properly. Not to mention that the prospect of speaking to a handsome knight wasn’t entirely unappealing to her as well. 

“Ser Jaime ” She called from across the courtyard. Jaime looked up at her, and smiled slightly. Even just a smile had Sansa blushing. She crossed the courtyard over to him.

“Lady Sansa.” He said smoothly. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I was wondering if you saw Joffrey come by here. I couldn’t find him at the hall.”

“No, can’t say that I have. Though I take it by you looking for him, that you don’t mind the prospect of marriage” He said through a smile. Sansa blushed and looked at her feet.

“Well…nothing is official. But I’d be honored to be Joffrey’s wife, and serve the realm.”

Jaime gives her a queer look, almost as if he was looking into her for something. Sansa squirmed a bit under his gaze. 

“You know, not everyone is queen material.” He said.

This caught Sansa off guard, who’s eyes grew wide with concern. 

“Ser?” She questioned.

“I’ve served under 2 queens. Rhaella Targaryen, and of course my sister. I protected them, served them,” He said. Sansa noticed a particular emphasis on the word ‘served’. “A queen has certain qualities to her.”

“Well Ser- I mean Ser Jaime, My mother and Septa Mordane have taught me everything I need to know about being the perfect lady, and-“

“Being a queen is not something that can be taught like common literacy.” He interrupted. “It is a trait that that few can learn, and even fewer can keep.”

Sansa looked up at him in worry. Did she have these traits? Oh Gods, he wouldn’t have brought it up if he thought she did. She wanted to be a good wife for Joffrey. She didn’t want to mess things up with Joffrey before she even got to King’s Landing.

Unbeknownst to her, Jaime Lannister was taking in every detail of her reaction and  
dismay. He watched as she squirmed and pouted, fidgeted with anxiety at his words.

His words were complete bullshit of course. Honestly he had just meant to tease the girl. He did love messing with Starks. A bit of Lannister past time, but how the Stark girl reacted, the dread on her face at the prospect of not being a perfect wife….no, Jaime could have some fun with this. He flashed her a toothy, predatory smile.

“Fret not dear Sansa. We’re going to be family after all. What kind of man would I be if I didn’t share what I know with you.”

Sansa’s eyes lit up at this. He had her.

“Oh Ser Jaime you would do that for me? Thank you, Thank you!” She said, leaping forward hugging him around his torso and burying her head in his chest. He was a bit surprised by the sudden contact, but wrapped his arms around her nevertheless. She pulled her face off of his chest and looked up at him smiling.

“Are you ready for your first lesson?” He asked. 

“Wait, now?” She questioned.

“No time like the present” He replied. Sansa was unsure. This was all so unorthodox. She was used to strict regiments and lesson plans. But she wanted to be perfect for Joffrey, so she slowly nodded her head.

“Good. Now…..give me a kiss.” He ordered. Sansa pulled back slightly, eyes growing wide.

“S-ser?” She questioned nervously. He just smirked at her.

“A kiss girl. Queens are supposed to know how to do these things. To make their husbands happy.”

“I-I don’t know. Septa Mordane always said a lady-“

“Sansa Sansa, you’re not going to be a LADY. You’re going to be a princess and a queen. Things are different. Plus, this kind of thing is completely normal South.” He lied. 

“R-really?” She asked, doe eyed.

“Really.” He said. 

Admittedly he was laying it on a bit thick, but he could get away with it simply because Sansa was not the brightest girl in the world.

Sansa looked around, to make sure no one was looking, and then went to her toes and gave him a chaste kiss on his lips. She held it there for a few seconds, before pulling back. She looked at him nervously, trying to gauge his reaction.

“H-how’d I do?” She asked sheepishly. Jaime looked up, as if he was contemplating his answer.

“Not bad….for a Northern Girl, but completely dreadful for the south.”

Sansa looked as if she’d been slap, face calling into pure despair. Tears started welling up in the corner of her eyes.

This is almost too easy, he thought.

“Don’t worry. That’s why I’m here. To teach you.”

Sansa was once again about to thank , when he bent his neck, and pressed his mouth against hers. She squeaked as his mouth enveloped hers. She instinctually struggled slightly against his hold, but she wasn’t going anywhere.

Jaime shoved his tongue into her mouth, moving it all around, tasting her. At first Sansa just stood there, frozen in shock, but then relaxed into the kiss. She tentatively moved her tongue with his, not being completely sure what to do. She had never experienced anything like this before. None of the epic stories or poems she read mentioned this. 

Some of her handmaidens had some experience with the opposite sex, but none of their accounts could have prepared her for what Jaime’s mouth was doing to her body and mind. She felt hot even in the cool night air. Her mind was hazy.

Jaime let his hands slither from her back upper back to the base of her spine, right above her ass. He didn’t go any lower. He knew not to push TOO much. Like a duel, you don’t want to make unnecessary, risky swings at the start. You start slow, tiring out your opponent, and then-

Then you strike.

He pulled back from the kiss, biting Sansa’s bottom lip as he left. She let out an airy gasp. Her pupils were blown, and she was breathing heavily. She barely remembered how she even got there.

“Not bad for your first lesson.” He said silkily, finally untangling his arms from around Sansa hips.

“Lessons? Oh! Yes….lessons. Thank you Ser Jaime . That was- that was different than anything I’ve ever heard of.”

“Yes. Northern education isn’t anything spectacular now is it? But like I said, you’re a quick learner. There’s hope for you yet, if you’re willing to learn of course.”

Sansa beamed at him. 

“Oh yes, Ser Jaime . Of course.”

“Good. Now, it’s getting rather late. You should probably be off. Whenever you want your next lesson in being a queen, come and find me.”

Sansa nodded her head, before turning to leave. He watched her as she left. He had just violated her mouth with his tongue, and she thanked him for it.

He had dreaded coming to The North, but maybe there was some fun to be had, in the castle of the Wolves.


	2. The Games We Play

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arya and Joffrey share their interests, and Catelyn and The Mountain have another.....disagreement

It had been a few days since the King arrived in Winterfell, and the wanderlust had all but worn off for Arya. She had only been able to speak 2 words to the King before either she was sent off to do some menial lesson with the Septa, or the King lost interest and went to go find her father. She had expected to hear grand tales about the war, controlling the Seven Kingdoms, SOMETHING.

But no, King Robert was more interested in getting drunk, and sneaking off to be with ladies of the night. 

Well, at least there was Joffrey.

Arya was too proud to admit it, but she might have developed a crush on the young blonde prince. But not like her sister, who liked Joffrey BECAUSE her was a prince. 

No.

Though they only had a brief conversation, Arya figured that the prince was something unique. He didn’t baby her when he talked to her. That was a unique feature for high-born men, who thought Arya to be some delicate flower. 

Often, she found herself watching the prince. Not stalking, surely not, but watching him throughout his day in different places. Joffrey was often with The Mountain, who acted as his personal guard. He’d walk around Winterfell, in the various courtyards and open areas. He didn’t ever seem to enjoy it, likely bothered by the cold. Southern people never could handle the cold of The North.

Sansa also would attach herself to his hip. She’d be chittering into his ear, smiling ear to ear, swoon at his very presence. 

It made Arya feel ill. 

Her sister was always blind. She couldn’t even see that Joffrey clearly wanted nothing to do with her. It was only his instilled high-born manners that he didn’t tell her to fuck off. Though she couldn’t completely blame Sansa for not seeing the signs. Their fathers planned to marry the pair of them off. Arya found herself feeling saddened at the thought, as well with a tinge of jealousy. 

Besides walking around the hold, there was one other spot that Joffrey had been visiting. On the eastern end of Winter Town, there was a slight wooded area. It was considerably safer than the Wolfwood and close enough to the town that children and the inexperienced could go into it without protection. Joffrey would ride into the woods, without Clegane, around late afternoon, and be back before the sunset.

Arya had initially thought that he was sneaking off with Sansa, to get up to Gods knew what. Luckily that theory was quickly dashed when Arya saw Sansa, stumbling around and looking for him. 

Arya decided that she would follow the prince, curious to what he was getting up to. Arya had always been a rather sneaky child; she could get in and out of most places with relative ease. She waited in Winter Town, by the path the prince usually took. Sure enough, Joffrey came trotting through on his horse, entering the woods. Arya trailed behind him on foot, slightly off the path. He wasn’t in a rush, so she didn’t have to strain herself keeping up. 

After riding on the path for a few minutes, Joffrey abruptly cut into the woods. Arya followed, but lost sight of him.

Now what could the prince be doing where he didn’t want anyone to see him?

Arya was able to find the horse’s tracks, and followed them until she got to a small clearing in the trees. Eventually she found the horse, tied to a small tree, but still no Joffrey. Suddenly, there was the sound of a ‘THUNK’. Then another, and another after that. Arya followed the sound to its source, and sure enough, there was Joffrey, and in his hands was a crossbow. 

Joffrey leveled the crossbow, aiming at something. Arya followed his line of sight, and about 15 yards away, was 3 dead rabbits, all shot right in their heads. He was aiming at a fourth, that hopped into the path. He pulled the trigger, and the bolt flew through the air, striking the rabbit right between its little eyes.  
“Wow!” Arya exclaimed before she could stop herself. Joffrey spun around, crossbow lifted. Arya was lucky that he didn’t reload the bolt, or she might’ve been just like those little rabbits. When he saw that it was her, his face was at first angry, and then a bit panic stricken.

“What are you doing here girl!” He demanded, eyes looking around. He seemed worried that there might be other people watching.

“Better question is what are YOU doing here?” She countered. She stepped out where he could see her better, then looked toward the dead rabbits littering the ground.

“Did you do all of that?” She asked. Joffrey went red in the face, he opened his mouth, as if to come up with an excuse, before closing it again. Arya walked closer to the dead rabbits, examining them.

“Wow…..you’re really accurate! How did you get so good?” She asked with sudden childlike excitement. Joffrey’s eyebrows shot up. That certainly was not the reaction he expected. He stared at her, searching for a hidden agenda in her face.

“You’re….not scared?” He asked carefully. Arya gave him a queer look.

“Why would I be scared?” She asked as if talking to a child. Truth is, she wasn’t. In fact, she was throughly impressed. It was no secret that Arya was not like most high-born women. She was interested in weaponry and and warfare. While her sister was sewing and reading poems about brave heroes, Arya was playing with blades, and reading epic poems about armies and cities being crushed. Her parents tried to “correct” her, punish her for playing with weapons, giving her double lessons with the Septa, but all attempts always failed. 

Joffrey was still staring her, obviously unsure of what to say. She could tell by his reaction, that his….hobby was something that was frowned upon by others close to him. Arya could sympathize with that.

“Honestly, it’s impressive. 4 rabbits, likely moving when you shot them. And I don’t see any other bolts, so that means you hit all your shots.” She praised. Slowly, a smile spread across Joffrey’s face, and he puffed out his chest.

“Well…yeah, I’ve been practicing since I was a small boy. I’m with the crossbow as my uncle is with his sword.” He boasted. Arya smiled at the return of his signature bravado.

“Does it have a name?”

“What?”

“Every weapon needs a name.”

Joffrey thought for a second.

“Will-breaker.” He answered.

Arya almost felt herself shiver.

“Would you like to try it?” He asked, presenting the crossbow to her.

Arya had never shot a crossbow before. Her father was more traditional, and his guards mostly were armed with traditional bows and arrows, which she found herself to be rather proficient with. She nodded her head, and Joffrey handed her the crossbow.

It was lighter than she thought. She looked around for a target. A small crow. That would do nicely. Arya aimed, and the fired. She wasn’t used to the recoil that came with a crossbow, and her shot was off.

“Shit” she cursed. Joffrey snorted behind her.

“Here, let me show you.” He said, walking up behind her. The wraps his arms around her arms, guiding them into place. Her face went red at his touch. Once he positioned her arms, he slid his hands down her sides, right under her ribcage.

“You want to use your shoulder to steady your shot. Keep your abdomen tight.”

His hands slid down her stomach. It tickled.

“You want to have your feet staggered a bit, back leg planted”

He let his hands fall to her hips, holding them in place. Arya held her breath, partially to steady her shot, partially to keep herself from whimpering.

“My, your hips-” Joffrey said under his breathe. He didn’t intend for her to hear him, but she did.

Arya suddenly pulled away and turned to him, face distraught.

“Why would you say that?” She whispered harshly. Joffrey gave her a confused look.

“What? What are you on about?” He asked defensively.

Shit

Arya hadn’t meant to make a scene. She hadn’t meant to wear her insecurities on her sleeve. She dropped the crossbow, and tried to move past Joffrey. He grabbed her by the arm, stopping her in her tracks.

“Let me go” She demanded, trying to tug her arm out of his grasp.

“Did I offend you in some way?” He asked genuinely. Arya stood silent for a minute.

“What? Me mentioning your hips?”

“Don’t talk about them!” She said louder than she meant.

“It’s a bloody compliment.” Joffrey replied. Arya snorted at that.

“Hardly……my sister makes fun of me for it all the time.” Arya said, looking at her feet.

Joffrey rolled his eyes, before tugging on Arya’s arm, causing her to spin into his chest. He then wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her in place. Joffrey was a whole head and a half taller than Arya, so she had to look up to see his face.

“Leave it to your air-head sister to make you ashamed of your gift.” Joffrey said, slowly rubbing his hands on her hips. Arya squirmed a bit at his touch.

“My gift?” She questioned. Joffrey smiled down at her.

“Yes, your gift.” He replied, letting his hands slide down to her ample backside. Arya gasped has his hands came into contact with her ass. He began rubbing each cheek slowly, before sinking his fingers into them through her dress. Arya’s eyes were wide as she stared up at him. He acted as if his groping of her was completely normal. 

“Most high born women would kill for your birthing hips.” He said as he continued to palm her ass. Arya mewled at his touch, relaxing and allowing him to knead her like dough. “Means you made to be bred.”

Arya’s face went completely scarlet at his words. He was so direct, so casually vulgar. Arya an unfamiliar wetness between her thighs. She thought she was somehow sweating in the cool weather. Joffrey bent down to whisper into her ear.

“With hips like yours, I’d be shocked if your husband let you out of the bedroom. They’d keep you in the bed, and pump child after child into you, strengthening their blood line. Creating a dynasty with each stroke.” He groaned into her ear. His hands never stopped groping her bubble butt, kneading and pulling at her cheeks. Arya fully shuddered at his words and ministrations.

“You have nothing to be ashamed of.” He finished, giving her right cheeks a casual slap for good measure. Arya swallowed a groan as she shivered in place. Finally, Joffrey slid his hands back up to her waist, pulling back to fully look at her.

“Feel better?” He asked through a smirk. Arya let out a breathy laugh.

“I feel definitely SOMETHING.” She said, trying to catch her breath that she didn’t even know she lost. Joffrey just gave her another smirk.

“Good. Now, let’s kill some things.”  
__________________________________________________________________________________________________

Catelyn was in full panic mode. 

Arya was missing.

She knew the rules. She was to be home, back in the walls of Winterfell by dusk, and if she ever left, to bring one of the guardsmen. It was now an hour after sundown, and none of the guards had even been aware that she let the keep.

Despite how difficult Arya was at times, this was a rule she NEVER broke.

Something must have happened. She must have gotten hurt, or lost or-

Or Clegane.

Since the night at the springs, Cat felt as if The Mountain was watching her. She felt like she always saw him in the corner of her eyes, but when she looked, he was never there, impressive for a man of her side. She had wondered if some form of retribution was coming for how she spoke to him that night.  
And now she worried that she had her answer.

That beast of a man must’ve done something to her youngest daughter. Her heart raced at the thought.’

She had to find Ned. 

Catelyn looked throughout the keep, but couldn’t find her husband. She asked a servant, who revealed that Ned was with King Robert at the encampment for the King’s men. She hurried to the encampment, entering the largest tent amongst many. Inside, she found her husband, The King, a mixture of the King’s and Ned’s men, and-

The Mountain. 

“Catelyn, I’m glad you’re here, maybe you can-“ Began Robert. Catelyn ignored him, and marched right up to Clegane.

“YOU.” She growled out. Ned and Robert looked at her in complete shock. Clegane just raised a black eyebrow at her.

“Where is my daughter Clegane?” She demanded, eyes glaring up at him. Clegane remained silent, face impassive. Ned walked up behind her.

“Catelyn, what is the meaning of this?”

“Arya is missing Ned. She’s never broken the dusk rule.” She said looking back at him, before turning his attention back to The Mountain. “And I know, he has something to do with it.”

“That’s a strong accusation Cat. Joffrey is also nowhere to be found as well. Maybe they’re together.” Interjected Robert. 

The prince was also gone. She supposed that could explain-

No. That didn’t make sense. As far as she knew, Her daughter hadn’t spoken two words to the prince. Plus, Arya had no interests in boys. Why would they be together, with no one knowing where they were?

“Don’t Cat me Robert.” She said harshly. “You brought this man into our home. You know the things he’s done. Until we get to the bottom of this, I want him in chains.”

Robert’s face turned red with anger, but surprisingly held his tongue. Ned stepped in. 

“Cat, I know you’re worried, but you can’t just speak to the king lik-“

“And don’t you ‘Cat’ me either Eddard!” She only used his given name when she was furious. “Our daughter is missing.” She said defiantly. She was appalled that Ned was being so passive about this, about having this monster in their home. She had wanted to tell them about the night of the feast. About how Clegane broke their house rules. About how he spoke to her. About how he exposed himself, and that horse cock between his legs to her; how he could have ravished her. She didn’t as she believed it would cause trouble, but now her daughter was missing, and her blame fell squarely on the Mountain. Who else could it fall on? 

Ned looked back at Robert. Robert looked at Ned, and simply nodded. 

“Guards, take Gregor Clegane to the dungeons until we figure out what’s going on.” Ned commanded. His guardsmen seemed hesitant. Why wouldn’t they be. They knew the same stories she had.

Surprisingly, Clegane complied. He removed his weapon from his side, and let the men lead him out of the tent. On his way out, he gave a glance to Catelyn. Catelyn didn’t back down, maintaining his gaze as he passed her.

Catelyn found herself thinking about how nice his eyes looked/

_____________________________________________________________________________________

It was an hour after Clegane had been taken to the castle dungeons, that Joffrey and Arya rode into Winterfell. Catelyn, Ned, as well as the King and Queen rushed down to great them, both relieved and angry.

“Where have you been boy!”

“Do you have any idea what time it is?”

“Why would you go without a guard? Without telling anyone?”

The torrent of question flew at the pair, clearly not realizing the commotion they had made.

Joffrey began to speak, to come up with some excuse, before Arya cut him off.

“It was my fault” She said. 

Catelyn and Ned gave their daughter a surprised look as she carried on.

“Joffrey said he wanted to see more of the area, and I had been ever so bored with all my lessons with Septa, that I offered to show him the area.” She explained.

“Arya, you know the rules. You’ve never been out past dusk before.” Catelyn interjected.

“Well I thought I knew where I was, but we got lost. It took us a while to retrace our steps.” Arya said, looking down at her feet for effect. “I’m sorry” She said in the sweetest voice she could muster. 

“Arya, I’m very disappointed in you but I’m glad you’re alright.” Said Ned in an authoritative tone. “You will stay within these walls until we leave for King’s Landing. Do you understand?”

Arya looked disappointed but nodded. She dismounted Joffrey’s horse, giving him a glance before she was escorted back into the keep.

“Hmph, letting a girl get you lost-” Chastised King Robert. Joffrey frowned but said nothing.

The small crowd dispersed, leaving just Ned and Cat.

She let out a sigh of relief.

“You have to go and give your apologies to Clegane.”

Shit.

She gave her husband a look, but he didn’t back down.

“Don’t look at me like that Cat. I understand you were upset, but you threw a baseless accusation at landed knight. You spoke to the king as if he was your child. What if Clegane speaks to Tywin Lannister about this? That we imprisoned his favorite vessel?” 

Catelyn looked at her feet. She was so sure that The Mountain was guilty. 

“Go make this right Cat.” Ned finished, before he turned and headed inside the castle.  
_____________________________________________________________________________________

Winterfell’s Dungeons were located in the First Keep, the ancient and abandoned part of the castle. Ned never bothered to have new dungeons built, since there were never any prisoners to be held, and anyone who did any minor crimes could be housed in the Winter Town Jail. For that reason, their weren’t even any regular guards assigned to the dungeons. Ned had to take 2 sentry’s from the wall to guard the cell door. 

Catelyn walked down the steep stairs in the decrepit building, and saw the guards standing at their posts. When they saw her, they straightened themselves and greeted her.

“I will need the keys to the cell.” She said plainly.

“Ma’am?” One of the guards questioned.

“Seems that Clegane is innocent.” She admitted begrudgingly. “Give me the keys. and return to your assigned positions. I wish to talk to Clegane alone.”

The guards look at each other, a bit concerned.

“My Lady, are you sure you don’t want us to stay and-“

Catelyn held up her hand to stop him. She wanted no one, NO ONE, to hear her apologize to a man like Gregor Clegane.

“Yes, I’m sure, now please do not make me ask again.” She said, holding out her open palm expectantly. The two guards looked at each other, and then shrugged. They dropped the keys in her hand, before making their way out of the dungeons. Catelyn took a deep breathe, before unlocking the door, and pushing it open. She had to put most of weight into it, because of secure it was. 

When she finally got the door open, she saw Clegane sitting on the cot, which was much too small for him, shirtless.

“Aren’t you cold?” She asked. She wondered why she was concerned about his comfort.

“No.” He said simply.

Catelyn inhaled deeply. She would power through this.

“You’re free to go Clegane. My daughter returned unharmed. You’ve been vindicated.” She forced out.

He just stared at her, unmoving.

He obviously wasn’t going to make this easy. Steeling herself, she continued.

“-And…..I was mistaken. I should not have accused you, without evidence. And for that I am sorry.”

“No, you’re not.”

Catelyn was caught off guard by that.

“I beg your pardon?”

“No. You’re not. You’re not sorry.”

The Mountain stood up, stretching. Catelyn couldn’t help but admire his muscular torso for a second time. He walked to the edge of the room.

“You’re not sorry at all” He continued. “I’m sure your husband made you come down here, to try and push your honeyed words on me. But you’re not sorry.”

Damn. She hadn’t expected him to be that perceptive. Catelyn kept her face passive, as to not give away it away.

“I did not come to argue with you Clegane. Just to offer my sincerest apologies.” She retorted. Clegane just snorted.

“Aye, I’m sure you want to put this all behind us, lest I tell Tywin Lannister how The Starks treat his vessels.” He said, as he began to pace back and forth next to her.

Catelyn once again had Clegane see right through her.

“Listen Clegane, I was wrong. I admit that. There’s no need for this incident to go beyond Winterfell” She tried. She hated how she had to attempt to placate him. “Besides, you were only in here for 2 hours. Hardly worth-“

“Despite my sigil, the only dog in my family is my brother.” He interrupted. Slowly, he began to walk circles around her, as if she was some prey. “I do not like being caged.”

Catelyn had enough of his dramatics. If he would not accept her apology, Ned could take it up with him. 

“Fine.” She said sternly. “Have it your way.”

She moved to leave the cell, but suddenly realized that they had switched positions; Clegane was now standing between her and the cell door.

“S-step aside Clegane.” She said, trying to remain calm. She had allowed herself to be flanked, and have her only exit blocked.

Clegane just smirked down at her. Even his smile felt like a threat.

“Nay. I think we’ll see just how sorry you are.”

Catelyn made a break for it.

He was big. Maybe she could use his size to her advantage. Slip under his arm, and get through the door before he could turn around.

Clegane easily crouched down and caught her around the waist, and lifted her clear off the ground.

“Ahhh! Stop! Let me go! Helllllpppp guards! Someone, ANYONE!” She yelled as she kicked and thrashed over Clegane’s shoulder. He just held her like a child throwing a tantrum. Her screams echoed in the dungeon, but no one was around to hear them. She might as well been screaming into a void.

Clegane walked her over to the cot, and unceremoniously plopped her down on it. She made to stand, but he placed his large hand on her shoulder, and flipped her over to her front. The cot was small, so chest rested on it while her knees mad hard contact with the ground. If it wasn’t for her dress, they would’ve been bruised.

Clegane grabbed the back of her neck and pinned her head to the cot. She once again struggled to no avail.

“Clegane l-let me go this instant! You won’t get away with this. My husband will have your head! H-he’ll have you torn apart by dire wolves! Let me go know and you can save yourself.” She tried. Her voice shook as she spoke, taking any much of the intended forcefulness of it. The Mountain just scoffed and flipped her dress up over her back, revealing her small clothes. After 19 years in the North, Catelyn was used to the cold. She never bothered to wear leggings anymore, but even she shivered at the sudden exposure of her fat ass.

“W-wait! Clegane please….if you let me go now, I’ll never speak of this. We can just pretend it didn’t happen.” She begged. 

Again, unfazed by her words, Clegane used his free hand to rub over her cloth covered mounds, with surprising gentleness.

“Oh fuck-“ Catelyn let out before she could stop herself. She couldn’t see his face from the position she was in, but she was sure he look satisfied with himself. He continued to gently rub two fingers over her covered cunt, taking his time. Catelyn squirmed under his touch, biting her lip, to keep her voice from coming out. She felt ashamed that her body was betraying her. That she was letting The Mountain make her cunt wet.

Clegane moved her small clothes to the side, exposing her cunt to him. Slowly, he pushed his middle and index fingers into her. Catelyn couldn’t stop herself from moaning. His fingers alone were as long as Ned’s manhood, thicker too. Her hips bucked as he pistons his thick fingers in and out of her.

I won’t come

I won’t come

I don’t want to come

Please don’t make me co-  
Catelyn couldn’t finish her thought, as an orgasm ripped through her body. She moaned like a whore as she shook, and sprayed her juices all over Clegane’s fingers and the dungeon floor. Her face burned with shame, as this monster brought her to completion. 

Something Ned hadn’t done in YEARS.

Truth is, Catelyn was a very repressed woman. Many high-born women were. Ned wasn’t interested in sex outside of making heirs. He in fact hadn’t even touched her in over a year. And now here she was, coming harder than she had in years, for the man violating her.

Catelyn came down from her high, and heard Clegane shuffling around behind her. He still had her pinned down so she couldn’t see, but suddenly she felt something on her lower back. It felt heavy. Not heavy enough to be his other arm, but-

Oh.

Gregor Clegane’s now hard cock was resting on her exposed ass and lower back. 

It dawned on her that the night in the Godswoods, she hadn’t seen him at full mast. His cock was 12 inches SOFT. But now- now he had to be at least 20 inches, and as thick as her bicep. She couldn’t help but whimper as she felt the weight of his cock on her. It felt like someone reacted a broadsword on her back.

“Clegane….please…..don’t stick that in me. You’ll kill me. Oh Gods, you’ll kill me.” She payed and begged. She knew it fell on deaf ears.

She felt his tip press against her cunt. It felt like someone’s fist going into her. With one hand on the back of her neck, and the other gripping her hip tightly, he began to push his hips forward, leaning down and putting some of his weight on her. Catelyn struggled with renewed vigor as The Mountains cock head began to stretch her open. He was just too big.

Her struggles didn’t faze The Mountain, who had a tight grip on her. He continued to push into her, until about 5 inches of his length were in her cunt. Well there was the threshold. The furthest her husband had ever been in her, and here was Gregor Clegane, who didn’t even have a quarter of his cock in her. Her cunt squeezed and trembled around him, almost sucking him in more. She couldn’t describe the sensation of having her walls utterly stretched, and she knew this wasn’t even the peak of him yet.

He continued to push into her, more and more of her length. Catelyn at this point was openly begging and moaning, as he continued to utterly reshape her cunt.

“Clegane…please…” She begged as he pushed past 8 inches in her.

“Gregor.”

“W-what?”

“My name is Gregor.”

“G-Gregor……please, just-“

As if ignited by her saying his given name, The Mountain rammed the rest of his cock into her cunt, to the hilt.  
Catelyn let out a shriek, as his massive rod, bulged lewdly in her stomach. He was deeper than she even knew existed. She could feel him in her tits. He held himself in her for a few seconds, before pulling out halfway, and ramming back in her, then again, and again. His strokes were so forceful, Catelyn thought he’d fuck her right through he cot. 

Her cunt is a tight sheath around his member, gripping him tightly, though due to his size, any cunt would have a vice grip on him. Her juices flowed down her legs as he railed into her over and over again, leaving a small puddle forming on the cold stone floor. Her mind was going blank at the sheer sensation, her cunt was being turned inside out. She stopped screaming pleas, now she was just babbling and whimpering as he fucked and filled her.

One particularly sharp thrust, sent her over the edge. Her legs shook, knees digging into the hard floor as she came and sprayed around Clegane’s cock. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head, as her violator made her come.

Even through her orgasm, Clegane never ceased thrusting his hips; in fact, it spurred his thrusts to become more wild and savage. The sound go his hips slapping into her ass, and her mewls and moans, echoed through the dungeon.

He sped his thrusts even faster, they became a blur. Even in Catelyn’s fucked haze, she knew what that meant.

“DontcomeinmeDontcomeinmeOhGodsOhGods” She babbled.

The Mountain literally ROARED as he climaxed, pulling Catelyn’s hips to his. Immediately she felt his hot cum flood into her, and just like everything else with him, it was massive. His first shot was enough to completely fill her womb. His second shot, caused her stomach to bulge slightly from the sheer amount. The grip of her cunt around him didn’t allow a drop to spill out of her.

After 2 full minutes of filling her with his seed, emptying his massive balls.

Slowly, he pulls out of her. When he finally unsheathes himself from her now gaping cunt, a torrent of his cum spills out, pooling on the ground. Catelyn shudders, breathing heavily, barely aware of where she is.

He lets go of her, causing her to slide off the cot, and crumple to the ground.

Gingerly, as if getting ready for a morning walk, The Mountain dresses himself. Catelyn just lays there in a heap, too exhausted and sore to move, as she looks up at him.

“Apology accepted.”

With that. He walks out of the dungeon.


	3. The Sennight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A sennight later, things change and become clearer for Arya and Catelyn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a longer chapter because I wanted to experiment with my style

Catelyn was conflicted.

Gregor Clegane, The Mountain, had ravaged her. 

Took her like some cheap Northern whore. Her cunt used and abused by his massive bitch breaker. She was left in the cold Winterfell dungeons, knees bruised and scraped, as Gregor’s seed leaked out of her cunt. It took her a quarter of an hour before she could even stand. 

She hobbled out of the dungeons, barely able to walk from soreness and exhaustion. When she arrived at the master bedchambers, her husband was fast asleep, none the wiser that The Mountain had just fucked her. 

She should’ve just woken Ned up. Told him how The Mountain had dishonored her, taken her against her will. It was his fault anyway, making her go apologize to that man, and what did that get her? A womb full of his seed, and a gaping cunt. Gods it would take DAYS for her cunt to return to normal. She’d certainly had to drink Moon tea as well. It was one of few options women had to make sure the seeds planted in them didn’t grow. Hell, she probably would need a double serving, because something told her that Clegane’s genes were strong ones.

She should’ve woken Ned up and said all this to him…..but she didn’t. She decided to let him sleep for the night. Not like she could reverse what had already happened to her. Clegane didn’t seem like the type to run, but even if he did, The North was loyal to Ned. She would tell her husband about her defilement in the morning, and have Clegane’s massive head on a pike by supper.

That was a sennight ago.

It had been a full 7 days, and Catelyn still hadn’t told a soul about her encounter in the dungeon.

Why?

Well when she woke up the following day, she began to really consider the sequence of events, and doubts clouded her mind.

Say she told Ned what happened. What then? It was highly illegal to do harm to standing lords without a trial, and Ned certainly wasn’t one to bend rules. And no doubt Clegane would deny all charges. He was a Lannister vessel. He was backed by the most powerful family in Westeros. She knew that The Lannisters would take various measures to protect their prized soldier.

Then of course there was the very real possibility that Clegane would seek a trial by combat. While she knew the knights and bannermen of her husband were capable fighters, she knew they would be no match for The Mountain. She couldn’t in good conscience send someone to their death trying to be her champion.

Beyond that, there was the shame it would bring their name.

She stupidly went into a dungeon with him. This was the second time she interacted with him unguarded. She’d have to go into detail of what he did to her, and be examined in court by the maester. She didn’t think she could bear to have the court gaze upon her stretched pussy for evidence. 

No….she would say nothing. It was the best choice in the long run. In a few days time, they would make their way to King’s Landing. Once there, Clegane would be sent back to his lands, and away from Catelyn, then she could just pretend as if nothing happened. As if he hadn’t bent her over, and fucked and orgasm out of her in her own home. She could endure. She just had to avoid Clegane at all costs.

Though, now that she thought about it….she hadn’t actually seen Clegane since that night. She should’ve taken that as a blessing from the gods, but for some reason, Catelyn found no comfort in not knowing where The Mountain was.

____________________________________________________________________________

Arya was having a wonderful time over the last sennight 

Ever since that day in the forest with Joffrey, she had been riding high. Her and the young prince were kindred spirits. Though she was technically grounded to the walls of the hold, it was easy enough for Arya to sneak out and in before anyone noticed. They’d meet in the woods, and hunt small animals, and talk. Well, Joffrey talked mostly. Boasting about himself and his family lineage. Arya didn’t mind. She liked hearing him talk. She liked to hear him go on about the Lannisters and the power and lands they held. She found herself envisioning being to the South, in the lush lands he described, in the Lannister red and gold. Better than the cold and gray of Winterfell.

Besides all of the talking, there was the touching. She had thought his casual groping of her had been a one off thing, but the fact of the matter was he was just getting started. To call Joffrey brazen would be an understatement. When they were alone in the woods, he groped her ass anytime his hands were free, as if her backside was something that had always been his. Kneading, pinching, slapping; he played with her ass to his heart's content. 

At first she played coy, batting his hands, but after a few days, fully gave into his ministrations, leaning into his hands, mewling at his touch, bending over slightly whenever he was behind her, to give him full access. 

Joffrey took her acceptance, and pushed it even further. He’d not only touch her when they were alone in the woods, but also while they were within the wall of Winterfell. He’d giver he ass a slap as he walked past her on the grounds, he’d pull her into alcoves to paw at her bubble butt, before releasing her and going about his business like nothing happened and every time, Arya would just readjust her clothes, and walk away with a smile on her face. 

This particular morning, Arya was with Joffrey in the training yard. They were watching the kingsguard and Lannister soldiers practice formation drills, led by none other than Jaime Lannister. Arya was taken in by the precision and uniformity. Joffrey was taken in by her thighs in the trousers she had on. He slyly rubbed one of her thighs as they sat on a bench.

“Joffrey! There you are!” Came a voice. The pair jumped apart, startled.

Into the courtyard, walks Sansa, followed closely by Robb and Theon. Sansa saw how close Arya was to Joffrey and frowned.

“Arya? What are you doing here? Joffrey, she’s not BOTHERING you is she?” Sansa asked in an accusatory tone. 

“I’m just watching the soldiers.” Arya answered sharply. 

“Oh, don’t you two start.” Robb interjected.

Joffrey frowned at the unwanted intrusion of the group, but didn’t let his full displeasure show.

“I was just explaining to your sister some of the drills and formations.” He said smoothly. Arya smiled at the scowl that came to her sister’s face. Satisfied, Arya turns her attention back to the soldiers

The group watched the drills for a while. Suddenly Robb snorts. He leans towards Theon to speak to him.

“Our men would make quick work of these boys” He tells Theon. Theon just nods his heads and agrees, the obedient ward he is. Hearing them. Joffrey frowns and arches an eyebrow.

“Is that a fact, Stark? He countered. 

“Yeah, it is.” Robb continued “My father and his men helped free this land of Targareyn tyranny, while you lads in the south, sat pretty until it was convenient.”

“It’s called strategy, Stark. Something you northerners know nothing about.” Joffrey answered in a bored tone.

“Is it strategy to stab kings in the back?” Robb said, glancing toward Jaime. Joffrey just smirks.

“Well….it worked didn’t?”

Joffrey and Robb glare at each other. Suddenly, Joffrey smiles and stands to face Robb.

“How about a friendly competition then.” Asked Joffrey. Robb just raised a dark eyebrow at him.  
“Me and you. A light sparring session. Your Northern ways vs my Southern.

“Ha!” Laughed Theon from behind Robb. “You’re going to fight Robb?”

“I’m not talking to you Greyjoy, I’m talking to your better.” Joffrey said without even glancing at him. Theon sputtered but said nothing, not wanting to push his luck mouthing off to royalty. Though to his credit his skepticism was warranted. Robb was a strong young man, muscular and solid. Joffrey was leaner, and a bit shorter. Robb would without a doubt have a weight and strength advantage.

“You sure you want to do this little prince?” asked Robb with a sneer.

“Robb stop it! You’ll-” Started Sansa in a high pitched wine. Joffrey just held out his hand, stopping her words.

Arya looked between the pair, eyes flashing. Robb just stared at Joffrey, and Joffrey at him. Sansa was pouting between the pair, and Theon was looking at a very interesting smudge of dirt on. Finally, Robb throws his arms up.

“Alright your highness. Have it your way. Just don’t go crying to your father when you get knocked on your arse.” Said Robb with a sneer. Arya was annoyed by his sense of superiority, as if he’s ever been in real combat. He only ever sparred with Theon and the children of their father’s bannermen, but he was too thick-headed to see that they always LET him win.

Joffrey walked over to his uncle. He said something that the others couldn’t make out, but whatever it was, a large grin spread across Jaime’s face. He took off one of his gloves, and gave a queer sounding whistle. Almost immediately, the soldiers stopped training, and maneuvered into a large circle in the training yard. Arya was impressed by the grace of their movements. 

“Well, are you coming or not?” Yelled Joffrey from the center of the circle of men. Robb frowned before moving to the circle. The men parted ways so he could get to the center. A squire brought practice swords and some protective chest padding. Arya, Sansa and Theon moved closer so they could see the action. The pair readied themselves.

“Last chance to back out.” Said Robb, twirling his sword in his hand. Joffrey just sneered at him, and the two began to circle each other.

It was Robb who attacked first, swinging att Joffrey’s head, obviously trying to end things quickly. Joffrey just leaned out the way. Robb advanced Joffrey, using his superior reach to his advantage, trying to close the distance between them. Joffrey just continued to dodge and parry his blows, back peddling and side stepping around Robb. The Stark heir was clearly getting frustrated.

“Stop running and fight ba-”

Just as the words left his mouth, Joffrey planted his back foot and went to a high guard, he slashed downwards, and caught Robb in the thigh before he could react. Arya had to keep herself from squealing with delight.

Robb hobbled backwards grimacing. “Lucky shot” he growled.

Joffrey just smirked at him, before taking another high guard, waiting. Robb advanced him again, but this time, Joffrey met Robb’s strikes with his own, blocking and countering. The two went back and forth with each other for several minutes, neither having a clear advantage over the other. Arya admired Joffrey as he moved and fought. He really was a handsome specimen of a man.

Joffrey and Robb locked swords, pushing against each other trying to gain leverage. Robb being taller and stronger, was causing Joffrey to falter, his legs shaking a bit as evidence. Robb smiled, thinking he had the prince, when suddenly.

*SPTT*

Joffrey spit directly in Robb’s eye.

Robb jumped back in disgust and pain, one hand going up to wipe his face

“Ah! You little-”

Robb swung blindly at Joffrey, who dodged the swing with ease. Using Robb’s own balance against him, he swept his feet from under him using the flat of his sword. Robb fell forward to his hands and knees, catching himself from falling on his face. Joffrey raised his sword, and cracked Robb directly on the back with it. He yelled out in pain, and fell to his stomach. Joffrey placed a foot to the base of Robb’s spine, and held his sword to the back of his neck, and smiled.

“Told you, attacks to the back seem to work.” He gloated. 

Arya couldn’t contain herself, and clapped at Joffrey’s victory. Sansa looked at her, scandalized, but Arya couldn’t care. Joffrey had shown who was superior here. Robb rolled over to his back, trying to catch his breath. 

“You fucking cheated” growled Robb as he sat up. Joffrey just gave him a derisive snort.  
“Cheated? This was battle. You do what you have to win. You really think your father was being honorable as he cut down scores of men on the battlefield.?” Asked Joffrey in an amused tone. Robb didn’t look so amused. He got to his feet and started advancing towards Joffrey.

“You question my father’s honor?”

‘Gods, for the eldest, he sure was fucking naieve’, Arya thought frowning. Honor this, honor that. Honor was something their father beat into their head, but Arya was no fool. She read enough about war and history to know that honor didn’t win wars and hold kingdoms. Honor isn’t what kept Winterfell under the Starks for thousands of years. The North and their fucking obession with honor and tradition was something that Arya couldn’t stand. One of the reasons she was so eager to ride South.

Robb takes another step toward Joffrey, but Jaime steps between the two.

“Now Now young wolf, don’t be a sore loser.” He said smoothly. Robb looked down and saw that Jaime had slightly unsheathed his very real sword. He was a sore loser, but he wasn’t stupid.

“Feh!” He said, throwing his practice sword on the ground, before turning and storming off back towards the castle. Theon followed obediently behind him. Joffrey smiled smugly, and walked toward Arya and Sansa with a confident swagger.

“Erm...you fought bravely Joffrey.” Said Sansa, forcing a smile.

“Fuck bravery. He won, that’s all that matters.” Interjected Arya. Sansa shot her a dirty look.

“Arya, shouldn’t you be going to your lesson with Septa Mordane. Wouldn’t want mother to know that you were late again.” Sansa said tightly. It was Arya’s time to shoot a glare. She huffed, knowing that her sister was right. She leaned toward Joffrey to whisper in his ear.

“Come find me later on. A reward for the winner” She said breathily, too low for her sister to hear. Sansa gave a confused look as Arya walked off. She was even more confused by the large smile on Joffrey’s face.  
____________________________________________________________________________

Catelyn was confused.

Confused as to why in the names of the Gods, she found herself trying to locate Gregor Clegane. 

She should’ve been avoiding him at all cost after what he did to her, but she hadn’t seen him in days. Had he ran, expecting retribution? No, since nobody seemed to be alarmed at his absence. Was he planning something? Catelyn did NOT like being in the dark. She told herself it was better to know where he was, so she could avoid him, than to give him the opportunity to catch her by surprise.

She walked the various court and training yards looking for him, but alas he was nowhere to be found. She was walking by Winterfell’s South Gate, when she saw a short, chubby man, running, well more like hobbling towards the entrance. He was waving his arms trying to get her attention.

“M’lady, M’lady” said the man, out of breath.

Wilhelm Mann. Owner of Winter Town’s whorehouse. 

The guards made to stop him, but Catelyn waved them off, curious as to what would have the man in such distress. Wilhelm made it to her, bending over, trying to catch his breath.

“Thank….huff….you….huff…..M’lady.” He said wheezing.

“Mann? To what do I owe the visit?” She asked firmly. Catelyn honestly didn;t care much for Wilhelm. He was a lecher and whoremonger and not all too bright either, but he paid his dues on time, so he was given his freedom to operate his business.

“It’s my whores, your grace!” He said, suddenly standing upright. Cateyln arched an eyebrow at him. “He’ll ruin them!”

“WHO will ruin them?”

“The man! A soldier. He-he...he’s as big as a mountain!” Rambled Wilhelm.

Catelyn's eyes went wide.

So that’s where he was. Gregor Clegane had spent the last sennight at the local brothel. 

Cately didn’t know why, but she felt a pang of jealousy.

“What exactly is he doing? Is he not paying? Hurting your workers?”

“Well….no, not exactly.”

Catelyn gave him a confused look.

“Then...what?”

“Well...it’s just that….Well he’ll put me out of business frankly” Wilhelm exclaimed. “No other patrons besides one will stay while he’s there! And he’s ruining my whores! Stretching their cunts with that massive rod of his! No normal man will want to use a whore whose cunt is the size of a stable! Erm, excuse my language, your grace.”

Catelyn just looked at him in disgust. 

“Why don’t you just kick him out?” She asked. 

“Have you seen the size of im’? Every time he looks at me, I think he’s going to pop my head like a grape. I was...er, wondering if you could get him to leave?”

“Me?” She asked incredulously 

“Well I’d ask your husband, but he’s busy with The King. Please. He’ll listen to you. You’re the lady of these lands.”

Catelyn opened her mouth, then closed it again, unsure of what to say.  
____________________________________________________________________________  
Catelyn was in a whore house. Not somewhere she ever expected to be in her life.

She told herself that it was her duty to her subjects to help then when asked. She told herself that the whorehouse was the best place to confront Clegane, since it was a public setting. She told herself all this, yet the reality simply was she was in a whore house that smelled of swear, wine and cum.

“Well, let’s be on then.” She said to Wilhelm.

“Er, after you, M’lady”, he said sheepishly.

Wilhelm’s brothel had 2 floors. The first for mingling and selecting your girl, and the second for the action itself. Catelyn could surmise that Clegane was upstairs. Catelyn steeled herself, and began to ascend the stairs. As she climbed, she really started to take notice to the rhythmic slapping of flesh that she was hearing. 

“Well, surprised to see you here.” Came a cheery voice as Catelyn reached the top of the stairs. 

Tyrion Lannister. The imp of the Lions.

‘I shouldn’t be surprised to find him still here’, thought Catelyn. 

Tyrion was sitting in a chair, or rather, he was sitting in the lap of whore, who was sitting in the chair; goblet of wine one hand, and the whore’s tit in the other.

“What brings you to this fine establishment today?” Asked Tyrion in a teasing tone. Catelyn didn’t like how the imp spoke to her, but decided to ignore it.

“Seems the proprietor of this building is having a problem with one of the tenets.” She replied.

“Oh I told Wilhelm I would replace that plate I broke. Didn’t think he would call the lady of this land on me.” He said in a teasing tone. “Unless of course you mean the giant who’s been running through all the whores.”

Catelyn’s face reddened a bit at his words.

“Yes, I was lucky to get….”

“-Ros”

“Yes, Ros. I was able to get Ros here before Clegane laid claim to all the other lovely ladies here. Poor girls. After he’s done with them….Well suffice it to say, childbirth might be a walk in the godswood for them.”

“Enough.” Interrupted Catelyn, getting sick of his flippant tone. “Just point me to where Clegane is.”

Tyrion just gave another toothy grin. “Well I’m sure you can hear the meeting of flesh.” He explained, before gesturing to the door at the end of the hall.

“Ser Tyrion. Please return to the castle.” She requested. She didn’t want Tyrion to hear anything she had to say to Clegane, or anything he had to say to her. 

Tyrion just raised an eyebrow at her. 

“Oh but I’m having such a fine time here.”

Catelyn shot him a glare, then looked up at Ros.

“You can take your…..companion with you.”

Tyrion put his finger on his chin, as if contemplating, before swinging his little legs and hopping to his feet.

“Very well. Come Ms. Ros. Let’s leave the beauty and the beast to talk. Maybe she’ll soothe his wretched heart.” He said sarcastically as he grabbed Ros’ hand and led her down the stairs.

Gulping, Catelyn made her way down the hall. The sound of the slapping and grunting got louder and louder as she got closer to the door. She could smell the sex in the air. Slowly she reached for and opened the door.

She was met with the site of Clegane’s naked form once again - this would make three times- as he fucke into a whore he had bent over on the small bed. The whore had fiery red hair, much like Catelyn’s. She was pale and with freckles. She was young, maybe having 19 name days. She was a bit on the small side, and Catelyn would’ve guessed her younger if it wasn’t for her very substantial breasts that were swinging with each thrust. Catelyn herself was a generously endowed woman, but she felt a pang of jealousy at how much larger the young woman was.

Despite her presence in the doorway, the fucking didn’t stop. Clegane had one hand firmly gripped on the whore’s waist, while the other was fish hooked in her mouth, causing her tongue to flop out, and drool run freely down her chin. The red-headed whore was grunting and yelping at Clegane’s sharp thrust. Catelyn could see his cock bulge in her stomach as he drove his bitch breaker in and out of her. 

Catelyn felt a familiar wetness begin to form between her legs at the scene, as she squirmed where she stood.

She must’ve been standing there longer than she realized, because she was startled when Clegane called out to her.

“Lady Stark.” He said, never ceasing his thrusts.

“C-Clegane” She stuttered back. 

“What do you want?” He asked simply, as he slapped his whore’s ass, causing her to gasp around his fingers. 

‘What do you want?’ How dare he speak to me in that tone. As if I’m inconveniencing him. As if he didn’t ravage me not but days ago’, She thought with a frown on her face. Despite the voice in her head, Catelyn couldn’t actually formulate any words as she stood there and continued to watch him destroy the whore with his dick. She was only broken out of her haze, when Wilhelm suddenly appeared behind her.

“Oi! You brute! You’re in for it now! I’ve got the Starks on my side” Wilhelm said with sudden confidence now that she was there. Although as he spoke, he still hid behind Catelyn. “You-you get out of her, now! Before you break her like you did all my other whores!”

With a grunt, Clegane gave one final thrust, before grabbing the whore by the hips, and pushing her off his member. She collapsed on the mattress, before rolling off the bed in a heap. Clegane’s member glistened with her juices as it bobbed in the air. Catelyn went to kneel down next to the whore.

“Are you okay?” She asked in worry. The whore just mumbled into the floor. “I’m sorry? I can’t-”

Suddenly the whore’s face shoots up from the floor, with a big, crooked smile on her face.

“FOOK” The whore exclaimed, startling Catelyn. “I avent’ been fooked like that since I lost ah bet an’ had to fook ah giant. 

Catelyn just looked at her wide eyed. 

“Ygritte! Get up and get dressed. You’re done here.” Commanded Wilhelm, finally stepping into the room.

“Ah, Do I ave’ to? I was enjoyin’ that. Shit I should be the one payin’ em.” She said, as she pushed herself to her feet, legs wobbling.

“Yes.” Answered Wilhelm sternly. “Now go downstairs and get yourself cleaned up.”

Ygritte limps her way out the door, but not before looking over her shoulder back at Gregor.

“Come find me if you wan’ to continue our session while I’m not workin’” She said huskily, before exiting the room.

“And you” Wilhelm said, pointing at Clegane. “You’re here by banned. Now please leave before-”

“I didn’t cum” Interrupted Clegane stoically. Both Wilhelm and Catelyn were caught off guard by him.

“I-I beg your pardon.” Said Wilhelm, panic filling his eyes.

“I said, I did not cum yet. I came here to please myself, and I’m not leaving until I do.” Said Clegane.

“I-I demand you leave this instant!” Sputtered Wilhelm.

“You better leave me be fat man, before I decide to fuck you instead.” Replied Clegane, standing from the bed.

Wilhelm gaped like a fish, before backing up and cowering behind the door frame.

“Y-you can’t speak to me like that! Tell him, m’lady!”

Catelyn squared her shoulders and looked at the giant man in front of her.

“I will not have you threaten my subjects Clegane” She said, trying to sound confident. Clegane just looked at her, before taking a step towards her, cock still hard and bobbing freely. Catelyn’s eyes couldn’t help but glance down at it, as it pointed at her like a weapon. She still couldn’t believe that inside of her.

“I. Didn’t. Come.” He just repeats, looking down at her. 

Catelyn felt butterflies in her stomach as his eyes bore into hers. She should’ve just gotten the guards, but that would likely cause an incident and violence. Her husband should be the one confronting him, but he was off doing gods know what with the king. So she had to step up and be the man he wasn’t. 

If Clegane wouldn’t leave until he spilled his seed, fine.

Sometimes the path of least resistance was the best one. 

“Wilhelm. Go and find something to do. Maybe to the tavern.” 

Wihelm didn’t need to be told twice. He scampered out the room and down the stairs. Catelyn waited until she heard the front entrance close before she spoke again.

“Sit on the bed” She suddenly said. Clegane just quirked an eyebrow at her.

“Whatever will make you leave without an incident. If you need to spill your disgusting seed, so be it. Now sit on the bed.”

Clegane said nothing, but obeyed. Catelyn took a deep breath, before dropping to her knees between his legs. 

‘Fucking disgusting. This obscene, massive thing.’

Tentatively, she reached out her hand, making contact with his cock. She was surprised how hard it felt in her hand? Yet the skin was soft and smooth. She brought her other hand forward; he was so thick that her fingertips didn’t even touch as she wrapped it around his length. She began pumping her hands and arms up and down his length, Ygrritte’s juice acting as lubricant as she began to jerk off Clegane. His cock felt heavy in her hands; reminded her of the times Ned allowed her to hold his greatsword. 

Clegane just looked down at her as she stroked his cock. He gave no indications that he was enjoying her minstartions. Catelyn frowned a little at his stoicness. She was on her knees, giving him a handjob, and he didn’t so much as make a peep. Catelyn doubled her efforts, working her hands up and down his cock at a feverish pace. He was so large that she had to move her whole arm to stroke the full length of him. 

After a few minutes of no response, and her arms growing tired, Catelyn decided to change tactics. Catelyn angled his cock downwards, so that it was level with her face. Clegane raised an eyebrow at her.

‘Try and stay silent now you big brute’

Catelyn opened her mouth and dove forward, cramming his bulbous head in. She had to stretch her mouth wide to fit his tip in. She felt like she was trying to heat her own fist. Catelyn layed her tongue flat on the bottom of her mouth, so she could swipe at the underside of his cock. She shallowly bobbed her head on his tip, as her hands continued to work and stroke him. She was only fitting about a fifth of his cock in her mouth, but she lavished his head with her tongue, and sucked hard and deep, trying to bring him to climax.

‘Ned never could last when I serviced him with my mouth’, She thought proudly.

But Gregror Clegane wasn’t Ned. She bobbed and sucked on his cock for several minutes, and the only progress she made was giving herself a sore jaw. She pulled herself off his cock with a light *pop*.

“What is with you Clegane?” She asked sharply. She continued to stroke his cock with her hands as she glared up at him. “Why won’t you cum?”

The only response she got was an amused snort from the giant man. Catelyn narrowed his eyes at him.

“What, can only spill your seed when you’re violating someone? When you’re raping their cunt?” She asked through bared teeth. She leant forward and spit on his tip, to give her more lubrication as she pulled him off. She was growing frustrated. She knew that she was one of the beauties of these lands. Certainly better than any of Wilhelm whores. Yet here she was, struggling to even get a reaction out of the man.

‘Maybe he needs some visual stimulus.’

Catelyn took her hands off Clegane’s rod, and hurriedly began to undo the laces of her dress. Once loose, she shimmied the material off of her shoulders, revealing her breasts. Catelyn was proud of her tits. Even as she got into her late-30s, there wasn’t a hint of sagging. Clegane’s eyes widened a bit at the sight of her breast, barely noticeable on his stone face. But Catelyn noticed.

‘Hmph. Even a brute like you knows a fine pair when he sees them.’ 

Catelyn leaned forward, and wrapped her breast around the base of his dick. She began moving her body and hands, pleasuring him with her tits. Clegane grunted, which She took to mean she was doing a good job. She licked at his shaft as she gave him a frantic titfuck. 

“Come on. Cum. Cum already you fat cocked bastard.” She said lewdly. She said it, hoping her dirty talk would spur his release, but in reality all it did was make her own cunt moist.

“If you want me to finish, you’ll have to do better then that.” He finally said. Catelyn was rather offended by that. Her actions would make any normal man spill their seed many times over. It wasn’t her fault that he was some horse-dicked freak of nature. 

“Fine.” She seethed. Unwrapping her tits from his cock and standing. Clegane just looked at her. “You take control then. The faster we finish, the faster you leave.” 

“On the bed. Bent ov-“ 

“NO.” She interrupted. “You shall never have me like that again. NEVER.” She finished adamantly.

Clegane frowned at that. Catelyn took a strange pride that he seemed displeased at the idea of not having her cunt again. Suddenly Clegane stood.

“Fine” He said gruffly. “Lay on your back. Head hanging over the edge of the bed.”

He leaned in close, faces inches from hers.

“I’m going to fuck that pretty face of yours”

Catelyn flushed red at that, and felt her womanhood tremble a bit. She just stared at him for a minute, before slowly placing herself in position. 

She laid there on her back, world inverted, met with the image of his huge balls swinging between his legs.

“Open” He said simply, and Catelyn found herself immediately obeying, opening her mouth as wide as she could. Clegane squatted down, lining his cock up with her lips, before pushing forward. Catelyn’s mouth stretched to accommodate him. She had had trouble when she was just sucking on a few inches of him, but now here he was, trying to cram all 20 inches of his cock into her mouth.

“HRRUUUK…” She gagged violently as he force-fed more and more of his cock into her mouth and throat. Catelyn could feel her throat bulging as he continued to push his hips.

When he had about half of his cock in her mouth, she started panicking.

‘Oh Gods, I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe!’

She began to squirm and slap his thighs with her hands, trying to dislodge his manhood from her throat. He was unfazed, and kept pushing forward.

“GLURK……..” She wretched as his cock began to push into her gullet.  
“Relax, and this will be all the easier for you” He growled. Her throat burned, and her vision was getting cloudy as he pushed the final inches of his massive cock into her mouth, pressing his fat balls against her forehead. Then he just held himself there. 

Catelyn’s slaps and squirming became less and less as she began to lose consciousness. After a few more seconds, they completely ceased, her limbs going limp, eyes rolling into her head.

Suddenly, Clegane stepped back, pulling himself all the way out of her throat. Catelyn gasped for air, panting and breathing heavily.

“You……. son….. of a wh-HMPF!”

Catelyn was cut off by Clegane ramming his cock back into her mouth.

“GLURCKK…..” she wretched at the sudden intrusion of 15 inches of his rod. Clegane shifted his hips back, and then forward again. He began to fuck into her throat, as if it was a waiting cunt.

“GLURCKK….GLUCCK….GLRUCCK...GRUCK…”

All Catelyn could do was lay there and take the brutal face fucking he was giving her. His heavy balls slapped against her forehead with each thrust. She planted her palms on his thighs in a futile effort to slow his thrusts, but Clegane was only focused on his own pleasure.

‘Gods, this time he really is trying to kill me with his cock’, She thought as he rammed himself into her throat over and over again. 

Clegane’s pace increased, rocking faster and faster. Catelyn was still surprised that a man of his size could move like he did.

“GLURCKK..GLURCKK..GLURCKK..GLURCKK..GLURCKK” She gagged as he hammered her throat. Drool and spit spilled out over her upturned face, making a mess of her makeup. Her lipsticked smeared across his cock, like landmarks

‘Just cum already you fat dicked ogre. Cum, cum, cumcumcumcumcum!’, She thought in a delirious haze. Her throat burned, her head was light, and despite her best efforts, her cunt was drenched and gushing. She was thankful that her dress still covered her lower half, or Clegane would see the evidence of her arousal.

Clegane’s leg’s buckled a bit, which Catelyn knew meant he was near his end. Clegane let out a growl resembling a bear and sheathed his member completely in her throat, as his balls contracted, cock swelled, and he began to shoot his load directly down her throat. Catelyn could only lay there as her stomach was filled with his thick seed. She took small comfort in her mind that she wouldn’t have to attempt to swallow his cum, as it was shot directly into her stomach.

What she was less comforting in mind, was the orgasm that shook through her body.

She had cum, just from the brutal assault of her throat. Her legs shook and her hips bucked as she sprayed her small clothes with her juices.

‘What in the name of the gods is wrong with me?’

Clegane pumped his hips shallowly, milking every last drop of his seed. Slowly, he began to pull himself out of her mouth. Spit and cum bubbled around Catelyn’s lips as he dragged his shaft out of her throat. When he got to the tip, he held himself there. On instincts Catelyn didn’t even know she had, she sucked hard, pulling out the stray cum left, filling her cheeks. Finally, he completely unsheathed himself from her mouth. 

He then cradled her head, sitting her up right, and turning her around. Catelyn’s mouth was closed, still full of his cum, so all she could do is look up at him with confused, clouded eyes.

“Let me see.” He said simply. Catelyn opened her mouth without question, showing him the pool of cum that sat there, her tongue wiggling and swimming in it.

“Swallow.”

Catelyn closed her mouth and swallowed down his load, into her already full stomach. She hiccuped as she finished.

“Am...Am I done?” She found herself asking in a hoarse voice.

“Not yet.” Clegane replied. Clegane walked over to a small bowl, filled with water, and a rag; standard practice in whorehouses. Clegane wet the rag, and and walked back over to her, and with surprising softness, began to clean her face. 

If her mind was working at full capacity, she might’ve been shocked and distrysting of his actions, but she just sat there in a haze as the huge man cleaned her off like a small child. She found herself thinking about how sof his hands were. 

After he finished with her face, he stood her up, and again with shocking gentleness, began to lace her dress back up, helping her put her arms through it’s sleeves, and tying the back. Once he finished, he went to his own pile of clothes, and began dressing himself slowly. Catelyn just stood there, not sure of what to do.

“You may leave.” Clegane said, pulling on his pants. “I will leave once I’m dressed. You have my word.”

Catelyn didn’t know why, but for some reason she didn’t think of Clegane as a man who lied. After a few seconds, she was able to will her feet to move. She walked out the room, giving Clegane a spare glance over her shoulder, before making her way down the brothel stairs. She looked around to make sure no one was there, before leaving the brothel.

There she was, once again ravaged by Clegane. Once again brought to climax by him, and once again making a walk of shame back home. 

At least her night was over.  
____________________________________________________________________________

Arya’s night was just getting started. She waited anxiously in her room, for the promise she spoke earlier.

‘Come find me later on, A reward for the winner’, She had told Joffrey earlier. Honestly, when she said it, she might've just been high on the rush of seeing him defeat her brother so soundly. She didn’t even know what she meant by “reward”, but Arya had always been good at improvising.

-Knock Knock-

Arya jumped at the knock at her door. She quickly went to open it, and standing on the other side was her prince, Joffrey, sporting his signature smirk. Arya just smiled back at him. She leaned her head out the door and looked around, making sure no one was around to see them, before grabbing Joffrey by his shirt, and pulling him into her room. He stumbled inside, and Arya closed her door. 

“Well, giddy aren’t you? I thought I was the one getting something.” He said teasingly.

Arya giggled. She never giggled.

Joffrey really was doing things to her that she couldn’t even comprehend.

“Oh shut up.” She replied playfully. Joffrey leaned down to meet her eyes.

“Why don’t you make me.” 

Arya stares at him for a second, before closing the gap between them, and pressing a firm kiss to his mouth. 

Joffrey lets out a sound of surprise, before wrapping his hands around Arya’s waist. He straightened back up, causing Arya to go onto her tiptoes. Joffrey slides his hands down to her ass to support here, and just to get a feel.

The pair’s kiss is hard and aggressive. Mouths forming to each other, tongues battling for dominance. Joffrey pulls back, but nor before Arya gives his bottom lip a little bite.

Both are breathing heavily.

“Wow” Arya finally says.

“Eloquent.” Joffrey said with a smirk.

“That...that was my first kiss.” Arya admitted blushing. It’s funny, despite all the groping, and feeling each other up, the pair hadn’t actually shared a kiss over the last several days. Didn’t bother Arya, though. She was never a traditionalist.

“Mine too” replied Joffrey. Honestly that shocked Arya. She had figured all the girls in the south would be all over the young prince.

“Well, I suppose you’ll be wanting your reward” She said shyly. Joffrey raised an eyebrow at her.

“That wasn’t it?” He questioned. 

Arya smiled, and detangled herself from Joffrey’s grasp. She stepped back, so that he could see her full form. Then, she pulled the string of the waistband of her trousers. They dropped to the floor, exposing her lower half to him. 

She wasn’t wearing any smallclothes.

She stood there, fidgeting a little, as her lower body, smooth pale legs, hips, cunt and ass were on display for Joffrey to see. 

She heard his breath hitch a little. His eyes were wide and staring. He stood there silent for several seconds. She was starting to feel a bit self-conscious. Then he smiled. Wider than she ever saw him smile before.

He was on her in a second, kissing her, and digging his hands in her supple ass. She squeaked and moaned into his mouth, as he manhandled her ass, digging his fingers into her soft skin, kneading and pulling.

“Gods I wondered what you felt like under your clothes.” He said, pulling his mouth back. Arya just giggled again and moaned as he gave her right ass cheek a light slap.Her cunt dripped and leaked down her legs as he continued to grope her. He started rocking his hips, grinding his clothed crotch against her slit.

“You better take those off, unless you want me to make a mess all over you nice pants,” She moaned into his ear. He didn’t need to be told twice. With one hand, he began undoing his trousers; Arya gave him a hand, helping him undo the knot in front, and dipping her hand in to feel him. He gasped as her hand closed around his hardening cock. She had no frame of reference outside of teaching from Septa Mordane, but she guessed he was on the larger size. The girth of him completely filled her hand, and he was growing to what she had to guess was 8 or 9 inches. He felt warm in her hand. Joffrey let his pants and smallclothes fall to the ground, and he stepped out of them, and kicked off his shoes. Now they were both bottomless, feeling and exploring each other.

Arya had had enough touching, and decided to step things up a notch. She pulled away from Joffrey once again, who let out a sound of protest. She smiled, and spun around, presenting her fat ass to him. She looked over her shoulder and wiggled her hips, before walking over to the far wall of her room, and placing her hands flat on the stone wall. She bent over slightly, sticking her ass out. She looked over her shoulder again.

“You can stick it anywhere…..besides inside me.” She said breathily. Arya was a wild girl, but she had a hint of modesty to her. 

Joffrey looked like he wanted to protest, but then stopped himself, not wanting to push his luck and spoil the moment. He walked forward, cock bobbing in the air, and settled himself behind her. He pressed his chest to her back, letting his cock fall between her ass cheeks. He begins to rock his hips, using her ass to jerk him off. Arya moans, and pushes back, trying to match his thrusts. She wiggles and shakes her ass on his crotch, letting his cock fuck between her cheeks. Joffrey groans and bucks harder into her, cock disappearing and reappearing in the valley of her ass. He leans back,and gives Arya’s left ass cheek a slap, then her right. He goes back and forth between her cheeks, slapping and smacking them. Arya, just yelps and moans, continuing to move her hips and ass on him. 

“You like that huh? Had to know that a wild girl like you would be a masochist.” Joffrey taunted. Arya just mewled and nodded her head. He weaves one of his hands into her ponytail and pulls hard, causing her to gasp. Almost as if it were a reign he used it to pull her, so he could fuck harder between her globes. The sound of his hips smacking her ass filled the room. 

Joffrey pulled back. He grabbed Arya by her shoulders and spun her around. Her pupils were blown, neck flushed, and she was panting heavily.

“Gods you’re so beautiful.” He said earnestly. Arya reddened even further at his praise, and gave him a goofy, crooked smile. She gripped his cock, and maneuvered him between her thighs, tip, pressing right against her cunt. She bent her head down and stuck out her tongue. After a few seconds, a glob of spit formed, and fell from her mouth, splatting right against Joffrey’s shaft. She gave him a few strokes with her hand to get him lubricated, before grabbing his hips and beckoning him forward. Joffrey got the message, and began to pump his hips, fucking in between her closed thighs, and grinding against her cunt.

He gripped her ass for leverage, fucking hard against her thighs. Arya rutted back against him, moaining and yelping at his hard thrusts. Her cunt was dripping all over his cock, adding lubrication, making it that much easier for him.

‘Is this what sex is like? Gods I would’ve done this earlier if I knew. Not with any of these local boys though. Only someone like Joffrey. Only Joffrey’ She thought as unfamiliar pleasure built in her stomach.

“Your cunt is so wet. So wet for ME.” Joffrey growled into her ear. Arya moaned at his words. She was close.

“Joffrey...something is- oh gods, OH GODS” She moaned lewdly as she thrust her hips faster, to get more friction against her pussy. Joffrey was happy to oblige, and met her thrusts with his own.

“Joffreyjoffreyjoffrey-oh FUCK”

Arya squeezed her legs together tightly, as she came. Her cunt sprayed, anointing Joffrey’s manhood with her juices. 

Arya had never cum before. Sure when she was younger, she’d let a finger stray between her legs every once in a while, but she never brought herself to completion. Now that she finally reached her peak, she honestly couldn’t think about anything else.

“Oh..oh gods....” She panted as she came down. Joffrey pulled back slightly, looking at his glistening cock.

“S-sorry” She apologized shyly.

He just smirked at her. “For what?”

Suddenly, he bent down, and hooked his arm under one of her knees. Arya yelped, as he stood back up with her leg, spreading her open to him. She eyed him warily 

“Joffrey, what are you-”

“I want to fuck you.” He interrupted. Arya flushed pink, and felt her cunt somehow get wetter than it was before.

“Y-you can’t” She tried weakly. She pushed against his chest half heartedly. Truthfully, she was so worked up, she didn’t even know if she WANTED to put up a fight.

“Oh, but I can.” He said, adjusting himself so that his tip was aligned with her entrance. He pushed forward slightly, parting her outer lips. Arya’s breath hitched as he began penetrating her. “You couldn’t stop me. If I wanted to, I could pin you down, and fuck you all night. I could ram myself right into your cunt, and fuck a baby into you.

Arya shuddered. She knew she should be mortified, but his words sounded ever so appealing to her. He continued pushing, head making it’s way into her virginal cunt. 

“You’re right. You could take me right now.” She moaned out. “It’d be such a waste though.”

Joffrey stilled his hips.

She had him.

“What do you mean by that.” He asked, brows furrowed.

“I’m not fertile right now.” She explained. Despite what people thought, Arya did in fact pay attention in her lessons with the Septa. She learned about her natural womanly cycles. Septa Moderna made her and Sansa keep a calendar of their fertile periods. She said it was good to practice it now, so they knew it when married. “If you fuck me right now, If you pump your seed into all night, I won’t get pregnant.”

Arya didn’t know why, but there was a hint of disappointment in her voice as she said that. 

Joffrey opened his mouth as if to say something, then closed. His brows knitted themselves downward, and he frowned slightly. Arya could tell her was slightly disappointed by her words, and contemplating what to do next. After a while, he let out a frustrated sigh, and let go of her. But he wasn’t quite done yet.

“On your knees.” He barked. Immediately, Arya dropped down, baningin her knees on the hard floor. She looked up at him in anticipation and confusion. He gripped his cock, and began stroking his cock right in front of her face, hand a blur. Arya reached out to touch him, but she swatted her hand away. She frowned a little, but placed her hands in her lap, eyes bouncing between his face, and his manhood. Suddenly his free hand shot out, twisting it in her hair.

“Stick out your tongue” He ordered shakily. She could tell he was about to blow. Arya obeyed, opening her mouth and laying it flat against her bottom lip. With a shudder and a low moan, Joffrey’s cock shot his load. First spurt landed directly against Arya’s forehead in a large glob, the second hitting her right cheek. The third and fourth spurts, hit her squarely on the nose, and on her wiggling tongue. The final spurts shot against her chin, and neck, as his orgasm died down. When he was sure his balls were empty, Joffrey let go of her hair, and looked at his handy work. Arya’s face was covered in his cum, running down to her torso and shirt. She put her tongue back in her mouth, and swirled around his seed, tasting his essence. She decided it wasn’t at all bad, maybe even something she would actively savor, as she swallowed it down.

“Heh. If I couldn’t breed you tonight, I figured marking you would be the second best option.” He said through a toothy grin. Arya smiled up at him, with cum covered lips. Joffrey then offered his hand to her to stand. Always the gentleman. Arya took it, and stood back up. 

“Here, let me get you a cloth to-”

“No.” Arya interrupted simply. Joffrey looked at her queerily.

“No?” He repeated.

“No.” She said again. “ Wouldn’t be much of a marking if I just wiped it off. I’ll wear it until morning.” She said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Joffrey just stared at her.

“What if someone comes in and sees you. Your sister? Your father?.”

“I’m not ashamed of this.” She said earnestly. Joffrey stared at her once more, and then smiled.

“You are truly something else Arya.” He laughed. “And you're MINE.”

Arya beamed at him. “Yours.”

No more words needed to be said. Joffrey pulled his clothes back on, and bid her goodnight. 

Arya stood there, pantsless, thighs covered in her juices, cum running down her face.

And she couldn’t be happier.


	4. The Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally, the fall, and all that it entails

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter is finally here

Sansa was annoyed. 

Arya

She had alot of nerve bothering the prince, that wild child. Her behavior during Joffrey and Robb’s duel was totally inappropriate and unladylike, as she always was. Sansa knew Arya would act up during the King’s visit. She wondered where their mother was; she was usually always on top of disciplining Arya when she acted up. Even more, Sansa was annoyed that the prince seemed to be humoring her little sister’s foolishness.

‘He must find her behavior amusing, like one would find a street performer,’ Sansa thought meanly. Sansa was trying: Doing her makeup, brushing her hair until her arm got sore, and wearing the finest dresses she had all to catch the prince’s attention and time, but he seemed more interested in Arya’s silly antics. 

Maybe she needed another lesson.

Ser Jaime’s offer. The lessons to be a Queen.

Sansa hadn’t seen much of Ser Jaime since that night in the courtyard. Their kiss hadn’t been like anything Sansa ever felt before. She could hardly believe that things were so different in the South. Maybe she WAS too much of a Northerner to attract the prince. Well that just wouldn’t do. She needed to find Ser Jaime immediately. They were to leave for Kingslanding within the next 2 days, and she needed all the practice in Southern customs that she could get.

She asked some Lannister men if they’ve seen Ser Jaime anywhere. And pointed her in the direction of the derelict, old parts of the Winterfell, The First Keep. She wondered why Ser Jaime would be there - perhaps to explore the castle. Sansa always hated going there. Her father always told them to stay out of there, that it was haunted. She didn’t believe those ghost stories anymore, but the prospect of having to go there still didn’t exactly entice her. Still, she didn’t have the time to be picky, so she made her way. 

She wandered the keep, wondering where the knight could be. Suddenly, she sees him, off in the distance with his back turned toward her. She calls out to him, but he can’t hear her. He begins to walk away, headed in the direction of the old Broken Tower. That tower was something her father ESPECIALLY told her and her sibling to stay away from, and with good reason. Sansa thought it looked as if it could come down at any moment. Why would Ser Jaime have any interest there?

She saw Ser Jaime enter the tower, and she followed quickly behind him. Blast her dress. Made climbing the many stairs to the top an ordeal, plus it wasn’t as if Sansa was the most physically active. She struggled to make it up the stair of the tower, having to stop several times along the way. When she finally got to the top, she heard light slapping noises through the entrance of the sentry tower.

‘What in the Gods could that be’ She thought as she peeked her head around the corner to take a look. 

What she was met with, was the sight of Ser Jaime’s pale, muscular ass, fucking into a cunt.

Sansa nearly eeped as she jumped back, covering her mouth as not to be heard. She peaks back around the corner, just to make sure her eyes weren’t mistaken. Ser Jaime was currently railing into some whore in this abandoned watch tower. His hands were gripped firmly on her hips, as he fucked into her. Sansa could hear the woman’s breathy gasps as at each thrust.

‘My word. They’re really going at it’, Sansa thought as she watched their coupling. It wasn’t particularly ladylike to spy, and it DEFINITELY wasn’t lady like to spy on people having sex, but Sansa couldn’t tear her eyes away. She felt a wetness between her legs, a wetness that Septa Mordane explained was completely natural to girls her age. She squeezed her thighs together as she continued to watch them fuck.

Ser Jaime laid a hard smack to the woman’s as, causing her to gasp loudly. 

“Again” The woman ordered, which Ser Jaime happily obliged.

Wait. That voice.

It sounded like- no, couldn’t be.

Oh but it was. 

Jaime threaded one hand through the woman's blonde hair, pulling her upright, and revealing her face clearly to Sansa.

It was the Queen, Cersei. 

Sansa’s eyes grew to the size of a full moon at the display. Brother and sister fucking. The ultimate taboo. The practice was not unheard of in Westeros. The Targareyns were famously inbred for generations, but as history showed, that did not turn out for them in the long run. 

Sansa wasn’t quite sure what to do. Should she leave and tell someone? What good would that do? They’d just deny it. Plus, was it her secret to tell. They weren’t hurting anyone really, she thought.

Maybe it’d just be best if she just snuck away. They didn’t notice her after all. She could just back away and-

“Stop. Stop!” Cersei suddenly yells. Sansa freezes. She thought she had been seen, but Jaime moved toward the window instead of the stairwell. He reaches out and grabs something. Not something, someone.

Bran. 

Bran always likes to climb things. He was so nimble.

“Are you completely mad?” Ser Jaime asked, holding the young boy by his shirt.

Bran looked scared, and confused. Sansa wasn’t even sure he understood what was going on.

“He saw us” The Queen said in a panic. “He SAW us!”

“I heard you the first time.” Jaime answered. He got quiet for a while, looked around, then looked back at Bran.

“You’re quite the little climber aren’t you?” He finally said. “How old are you?”

“Eight” Bran answered. Jaime just stares at him, then looks back at Cersei, still kneeling on the stone floo. Sansa watched, unsure of what was going to happen. Eventually, Jaime let go of Bran’s shirt, and Sansa felt herself relax for a second. Just a second, because moments later, Jaime pushed Bran against his chest. Bran falls backwards, out of the window. Sansa covers her mouth to stop herself from screaming. 

Ser Jaime, the most handsome night in all of Westeros just pushed her little brother out of a window. Sansa began to back her way down the stairs, moving as quickly and quietly as she could. She had to get to Bran. Maybe he was alive. Maybe she could get help in time. 

Just maybe-

As Sansa bounded down the last step and out of the tower, she saw a very large man standing over Bran. He was looking at Bran’s broken form, and then, looked up at her.

Gregor Clegane. 

He looked at her for a moment, and then, much to Sansa’s surprise, he gently picked up Bran and took him into his arms, began to make his way towards the main castle. Not knowing of what else to do, and still scared of being discovered, she did the only thing could think of…

And ran.  
________________________________________

Catelyn was going about her daily duties when she heard a commotion in the main courtyard. She figured that the Lannister men and The Stark men had once AGAIN gotten into a fight. She swore she had broken up at least a dozen over the last 2 days, practice duels that always escalate into fists fights. She walked into the courtyard, prepared to make a scene.

“Alright, If any of you are fighting-” She began. She quickly fell silent when she saw what was happening. Gregor Clegane, The Mountain, was surrounded by a circle of confused and worried looking guards and servants as he marched forward with Bran in his arms. Catelyn runs up to him, pushing through the small crowd.

“Dear Gods, my baby boy,” She wailed. She placed her hand on him, but the boy flinched in pain. “What happened? Someone tell me what happened!”

“Fell from the tower.” Clegane said simply, voice cutting through the yelling and chattering of the ever growing crowd. He tilted his head back, indicating to the Broken Tower in the distance.

“I don’t….how-” Catelyn tried, mouth not being to form a sentence. She didn’t know what to say. She felt fluish, a horrible feeling in her stomach. Her boy Brandon Stark, lying broken in Gregor Clegane’s massive arms.

“Get the Maester now, or the boy will die and details won’t matter.” Clegane barked, snapping Catelyn out of her trance.

“Someone get Luwin NOW.” She commanded. Several guards and servants ran toward the keep. Clegane followed behind them, along with Catelyn. When they got inside, Maester Luwin was already coming down the stairs.

“Gods, what happened?” Luwin asked, getting close to observe the boy. He looked up at Clegane skeptically and with accusation in his eyes.

“Take the boy now, I will explain later.” He replied. Luwin squinted his eyes at him for half a second, before nodding, and having his assistants take the boy from Clegane. Catelyn made to follow them, but Luwin stopped her.

“My Lady, it would be better if you stayed here. I’ll have someone-.”

“That’s my son! He needs me. He needs his mother by his side” She yelled. She hadn’t noticed that tears were running down her face by now. Luwin gave her a sympathetic look.

“Please Catelyn, you must let us work.” He said. Catelyn looked as if she wanted to say something else, but closed her mouth. She fell to her knees and began openly sobbing. 

“Please help Lady Stark to her quarters.” Luwin instructed one of the servants. The servant knelt by Catelyn and helped her to her feet, and began to escort the hysterical mother to her room. Catelyn gave a last look back at The Mountain before being led away.

“And someone send a rider out to get Lord Eddard as quickly as possible. We need him here as soon as possible.”

____________________________________________________________________________

It took hours for Ned and the King’s hunting party to finally return. By then, Maester Luwin had already done what he could for the day. The boy was shattered. Multiple bones broken, including his spine, internal bleeding, and likely some form of head trauma. He could only do so much with injuries of this caliber; truly, it was up to the gods. When he finished doing what he could, he allowed Catelyn to sit next to his bedside. He made it clear that she could not touch him at this time- any little thing could send the young boy to the gods. So she sat there is pure anguish, crying silently. Ned arrived in the bedroom, still covered in dirt, and smelling like the wilderness. He walked to the bed and looked at his son with sorrow.

“I always told that boy to be careful with that damned climbing” He said woefully. “I should’ve been stricter. Corrected him more harsh. Then maybe this wouldn’t have happened.”

Catelyn said nothing, just continuing to silently cry over her son.

“Maester Luwin said that his back…..that he might not walk again if- when he wakes.”

Catelyn still said nothing. She didn’t even acknowledge when he walked into the room.

“Catelyn please, say someth-”

“You were gone.” She finally said.

“What?”

“You were gone” She said again, louder now. “Of having a merry time with your old friend...while I was here, alone.”

Ned gave her a helpless look. She still had tears in her eyes, but her voice was angry now, indignant.

“Catelyn, I as Lord of this house, I was doing my duty to the cro-”

There was that word. Duty. that word she fucking hated. 

“Bollocks!” She shouted, suddenly standing and facing Ned. “Bollocks! You and you’re damned duty. You and that damned king.” 

“Cat, you can’t speak of the king like-”

“Don’t fucking CAT me!” She screamed “Robert has always taken you away from. He tells you to march, and you march. You matched south, and came back with a BASTARD. And now…...tell me Ned, tell me….do you still plan to go with Robert to King's Landing?”

Ned had the grace to look guilty.

“Cat….the king needs me-”

“Your SON needs you. I need you. Bran is laying here in pieces, and you plan on following that fat whoreson a month’s ride away!” 

“Watch your words woman!” Ned threatened taking a step forward. “I know you’re upset. Gods I know you are, but you will not talk to me that way, and you will not talk of the king that way.” 

Catelyn just looked at him in disgust. He didn’t realize it, he COULDN'T realize it, but what he was doing would prove to be irreversible. Catelyn quietly sat back down by her son. Ned sighed, and turned to head out the room.

“Please Cat, try and understand.” He pleaded, but she wasn’t listening. He made his choice once again. 

So she was going to make hers.  
___________________________________________  
Sansa was terrified.

What she saw, who she saw, it was just too much.

The queen and Ser Jaime, fucking. Obviously not for the first time, not that that would’ve made a difference. 

They tried to kill Bran. The boy was only 8. He didn’t know what he was looking at. He wouldn’t have told anyone a thing. That didn’t matter to Cersei and Jaime however; they didn’t want to take the risk. 

But thank the gods Bran lived. He was in shambles, body broken, but he was alive, though no one could say for how long.

And then there was the matter of her. What she saw. Sansa witnessed everything. And she DID understand what was happening. If she would’ve came forward about what happened, no doubt Ser Jaime and the Queen would be in shackles in a heartbeat.

But she hadn’t come forward. It had been a full day since Bran’s fall from the tower, and she hadn’t said one word.

Why?

The answer was simple. Sansa still wanted to be queen. 

If she told of what she saw, her father would never let her marry Joffrey. She knew it was terrible but it was the truth. This was Sansa’s chance to become the most important and most envied woman in all of Westeros.

She told herself that it was Bran’s fault for climbing in the first place. He was told so many times how dangerous it was. She had gone and visited him that night, sitting with their mother for a while. She looked so drained. She stayed for a while, before deciding to head back to her room. She walked out of the room, letting the door close behind her; she turned left to begin walking, when she ran into a solid mass, almost knocking her off her feet. 

“I’m sorry Lady Sansa.”

Oh Gods.

Sansa looked up. It was Jaime Lannister.

‘Oh Gods he’s come to kill Bran. He’s come to kill ME.’ She thought in pure panic.

“My lady, is something the matter?” Jaime asked in genuine confusion. She must have been staring at him like a scared rabbit. It dawned on her that they hadn’t actually seen her, and that she had to act normal for them not to expect anything.

“S-Ser Jaime. What are you doing here at these hours?” She asked. Jaime put in his best sympathetic face.

“I heard what happened to the boy. My condolences to you and your family.” He said bowing his head. Sansa frowned slightly. He lied so easily. 

“Yes, my mother is taking it especially hard. Having Bran pushed from the tower like that.” Sansa said, eyes cast downward to her feet. When he didn’t respond, she looked back up, and saw that he was staring at her, eyes wide, and jaw fixed. 

“Ser?” She asked cautiously 

“Pushed?” He asked simply?

Shit.

She messed up. Slight slip of the tongue, one that could prove deadly with someone like Jaime Lannister. 

“Yes pushed….by a hard gust of wind. He lost his grip and fell. Nothing anyone could’ve done.” She said, trying to hide the panic from her voice. Jaime just looked at her, face unreadable. After a while, he smiled slightly.

“You know, I think now would be a good time for another queen lesson” He suddenly said. Sansa felt a wave of relief wash over, seemingly being convincing enough. But then she was suddenly confused. 

“Now Ser? I don’t think I’m in the right spirits to-“

“Nonsense. A queen must always be ready, even in the face of tragedy” He said, grabbing her by the forearm. He began dragging her down the corridor. She tried to lightly pull from his grip without making it too obvious, but he held her fast, dragging her to a small alcove in an empty corridor. It was one of the back halls for servants and workers, but it was only used for large events to prevent congestion, otherwise it was completely devoid of life. Sansa looked around nervously as he pushed he back against the wall

“Your next lesson to be a queen. Your mouth.” He said. 

“My….mouth Ser? You mean like my smile?”

“Not only your smile. How you talk, how you eat. Your mouth is key part of how people perceive you.” He explained. As he spoke he brought his hand up and gently rub his fingers over her lips. Sansa noticed that his hands were warm. Slowly, using his index finger, he gently pushed between her lips, forcing the digit in. She looked up with apprehension, but didn’t attempt to move. She was scared, confused, but part of her wanted to see where this would go.

“Suck.” He commanded. Sansa found herself complying without hesitation. Sucking on the finger of the man who not a day ago tried to murder her brother. Her tongue brushed over his calloused skin, realizing that she didn’t mind the texture. He added another digit, his middle finger. Sansa swirled her tongue around his fingers, as if she was cleaning them, making sure to every centimeter of skin.

“Not bad. Quite the skilled little mouth you have” He praised. Sansa actually perked up at his words. This was wrong. She should be terrified of him, yet here she was, sucking on his fingers in a corner of a hallway. 

Suddenly and harshly, he pushed his hand forward, driving his fingers into her throat. She gagged violently and tried to back away, but all she ran into was stone.

“Shhh shhh, you’re okay.” He cooed, holding his fingers in her throat. She gag and sputtered as tears formed in the corners of her ears, threatening to spill down her face. “A good queen must maintain composure in stressful situations, remember?”

He begin pistoning his fingers in and out of her mouth. She continued to gag on his fingers, but tried to control her breathing. Drool dripped down her chin and onto her dress. Eventually, he withdrew his fingers from her mouth, leaving a string of spit between her mouth and hand. She breathed a sigh of relief and gasped for air, panting heavily.

“Not bad at all Sansa'' he commended. He wiped his fingers on the side of her face. “But you still have a slot of work to do. On your knees.”

“W-what?” Sansa asked, still sucking in breath. Jaime gave her a hard look.

“A good shouldn’t be told something more than once.”

Sansa stared at him with trepidation, before sinking down to her knees. She sat on her thighs and looked up at the knight looming over her. Jaime wasn’t in his armor, sporting rather an expensive looking pair of trousers, and a tunic, Lannister colors of course.

He adjusted the waist of his trousers, shifting them down his hip along with his small clothes. Sansa’s eyes went wide as his semi-hard cock came into view. Just like the rest of him, his cock was pretty: pubic hair trimmed and maintained, balls symmetrical and large, and shaft long, and skin looking healthy. 

Jaime grabbed the base of his shaft, and began to rub the tip of his cock on Sansa’s pretty face. He ran it over her cheeks, over her forehead, her nose; any and every inch of her face that he could. He payed special attention to her lips, smearing his cockhead on her closed, pouting mouth, glistening them with his pre-cum. She did her best not to flinch as he drew on her face with his cock, sitting their submissively, and obediently.

“I feel you can guess what I want you to do next.” Jaime said, still rubbing his cock over her lips. Gulping, Sansa slowly parted her lips, and opened her mouth. Not waiting a moment, Jaime placed his cockhead on her mouth, letting it sit on her tongue, instinctually, closed her lips around him. Sansa experimentally swiped her tongue against his glands, tasting him. Like his fingers, she decided she didn’t mind the taste of him. Jaime was content just letting his cock head sit in her mouth and allow the Stark girl to lavish his cock. 

After a while, he began to slowly rock his hips, pushing more of his cock into her small mouth, as he grew harder. The back of Sansa’s head was against the corridor wall, so all she could do was sit there as Jaime pushed into her throat. 

“HRURRRKK….” She gagged as he pushed past her tonsils. Her nostrils flared and her cheeks were growing red.

“Keep still girl. You’re doing well. Your mouth feels wonderful.” Jaime praised. Despite her throat burning, she swelled slightly at his praise. Jaime pushed forward more, sliding his now completely hard cock down her throat. Sansa gagged and slapped against Jaime’s toned thighs. “Oh knock that off” He chastised, sharply thrusting his hips forward, fully bottoming out his 9 inch dick into her esophagus, and causing her to wretch loudly around him. Jaime loved the way her throat spasmed and squeezed around him, inadvertently milking him as it tried to dislodge him. 

Sansa squirmed and fruitless pushed against Jaime’s thighs. Her head was growing light from lack of air, seeing stars in her vision. Her arms grew weaker and weaker, before eventually falling to her side. 

‘He’s trying to kill me! Oh gods oh gods oh gods’, She thought, or at least tried to think; her mind was going blank. Her eyes fluttered closed and she went completely limp, only held up by Jaime’s cock and the wall. Deciding to give the girl a break, he shifts his hips back, sliding his manhood from her throat. She fell against his thighs, unresponsive for a second, before springing back to life, gasping desperately for air.

“Not bad” Jaime said, grabbing Sansa by the top of her head and forcing her to look up at him. “But if you want to be a queen, you must be able to hold a man in your mouth longer than that.” 

Once again, without much ceremony, he crammed his cock back down her throat.

‘GLAARCK….’ She gagged ones again as her nose was shoved to his pubic hair. Drool was pooling on her dress as it ran down her chin like a stream.

Jaime repeated this action several times: holding Sansa down on his cock, unmoving, until she was on the brink of unconsciousness, and then pushing her off to allow her to refill her lungs for a few seconds. To her credit, she was lasting longer and longer, even if minutely.

Once he got bored of punishing her throat, he pulled out and grabbed a a handful of Sansa’s red hair, which became disheveled over the course of her oral assault. Using her hair, he wrapped it around his shaft and began jerking himself off with it. 

“You did good Sansa. I’m proud of you. Very good….for a Northerner.” He said as he stroked himself off with her hair. She was too light headed to respond intelligently, so all she did was nod numbly. “But there is one final lesson you must know about a queen’s mouth.”

Using his free hand, he grabbed Sansa by her cheeks, forcing her head up.

“A queen knows when to speak…..and when to keep their mouth shut. A queen knows when to be silent, and unheard, UNSEEN.” He said, voice suddenly serious. Even in her hazed state, Sansa got the double meaning of his words. “Do you understand?”

“Y-yes Ser. I understand.” She said meekly

“Good.” He said. He stroked himself faster, and with a grunt, he came directly on top of Sansa’s redhead. He shot 3 ropes zigzagging on her head. His cum dripped down her scalp, and onto her forehead and temple. When finished, he wiped his tip on her hair, and tucked himself back in his pants.

“Well, that was truly a progressive session” He said, clapping his hands together. “Give your condolences to your mother” He commented, before turning and walking down the empty corridor.

Sansa just kneeled there, come dripping down her head, unsure of what to do next.

A crown for a queen.  
____________________________________________

Arya felt like crying. 

First time in a long time. 

Bran was hurt. He might die. 

She sat in the Godswood, in front of the Heart Tree. 

She was praying- well attempting to pray- like her father always told her to do when she felt distressed. 

“The Old Gods will always provide”, he’d always tell her. That is she prayed hard enough, and kept to the path, they’d watch over her and her siblings. She didn’t feel very watched over at that moment. She imagined Bran didn’t feel very watched over laying in bed, fighting for his life. But she prayed nonetheless, speaking words to a tree with an ugly face carved in it.

“Ugly fucker, isn’t he?”

Arya whipped her head around, and saw the young prince Joffrey strolling up to her. She smiled slightly at his presence, standing to meet him. 

“So this is how you Northerners pray? You come to the woods and kneel in the dirt.” He teased, but Arya was in no mood. Sensing this, he changed tactics. “I heard about your brother. Nasty bit of business, that fall.” 

Arya gave a non committal sound and turned back to the Heart Tree. Not liking not being the center of his attention, Joffrey stepped forward to stand next to her. “Though praying to trees, no surprise something like this happened.” 

Arya turned and frowned at him.

“Are you trying to be an ass?” She asked harshly. Joffrey just smirked and shrugged his shoulders.

“I’m just being honest.” He said. “I mean really. Trees and forest people? I know you Northerners are a primitive but your superstitions are the machinations of children.”

Arya felt her face growing red. Why was he talking like this, being purposely hurtful? Joffrey continued on with his ranting.

“The Sevens, blessed be thy names, are the gods of the civilized, the Andals. Not some Children of the Dirt.”

“Children of the FOREST.” She corrected 

“Whatever.” Joffrey dismissed. “All I’m saying is, if you worshiped the right gods, maybe they wouldn’t have had to scoop your brother off the gro-“

Arya had heard enough.

She swung around, expecting to hit Joffrey with the back of her fist. However he caught it with ease, and twisted it behind her back.

“Let me go!” She shrieked as she struggled and bucked in his grasp. He held her firm, one arm behind her back, the other catching other her wrist to stop any further attacks

“Calm down” He said simply.

“Why? So you can just hurt me?” She yelled. “Was your night with me so unpleasant, that you’re trying to drive me away?”

Arya REALLY felt like crying now.

Joffrey pressed his chest against her back and leaned down to whisper in her ear

“I’m not saying this to hurt you stupid. I’m saying all this because I know you’re BETTER than this.” He explained as if talking to a child. Arya halted her struggling and looked over her shoulder at him.

“Better? Better than wh-“

Before age could finish her sentence, Joffrey spun her around and pulled her into a searing kiss. She squealed, before melting into it, hands going to his blonde hair, and sliding down her back to her bubble ass. After a few seconds, he pulled back.

“-BETTER than worshiping tree people and forest sprites. Better than praying in the dirt. Better than the North.”

Arya’s mouth formed a hardline, but she didn’t interrupt, and listened intently.

“The North, your family, is living in the past. Living like mongrels. But you, you see that don’t you. You see that there’s a future for you outside of this frozen wasteland. A future south, a future around the world. YOU can be so much better.”

Arya swallowed as she tried to think of a rebuttal. She wanted to disagree, to defend her home and the beliefs of her people.

But she couldn’t

He was right. She wanted more than the North. She wanted more than the superstitions hammered into her head by her father. She wanted more, she wanted something new. 

She wanted Joffrey.

“You’re a bastard.” She said without much bite. Joffrey just smirked.

“And you wouldn’t want it any other way.”

He once again covered her mouth with his, devouring her, groping every inch of her fat ass. She moaned into his mouth, pushing her hips back into his large hands.

‘Gods, what is he doing to me?’

Arya hated and loved how Joffrey got into her mind and body. He was able to read her thoughts and make her body ache and squirm under his touch. 

He disconnected his mouth from hers. She whimpered at the loss of contact with his lips and tried to follow his mouth, but he stopped her. He looked down at her half lidded eyes with intensity.

“Get that fucking dress up, NOW.” He ordered. Arya’s cunt dripped at his commanding tone. She figured he could tell her just about anything and she’d listen. Arya spun around, and hiked up her dress, bunching the fabric around her hips. Arya’s small clothes were more a formality when she wore dresses; her fat bottom swallowed up and stretched the fabric to its limit. She spread her legs shoulder width apart and bent over slightly, putting her hands on her knees, presenting herself. 

Joffrey reigned down a smack to her right ass cheeks, making it quake and jiggle. Arya gasped out and moaned in pain and pleasure. She’d never minded pain, always partaking in activities in which she might hurt herself, but in this moment, Arya realized she actually LIKED the stinging and hotness spreading across her ass. Joffrey laid another smack, this time to her left cheek. He was having the time of his life playing with her large pale globes. He dug his fingers into her assflesh, kneading it and feeling it, much like their night they spent together in her bedroom. Except this time, he planned on going much farther than just feeling. His hands slid to the waist of her smallclothes, and with ease, he tore them apart, leaving them in tatters, and her cunt exposed to the cold air. She shivered a bit at the coldness, and in anticipation.

Joffrey began fumbling with his own trousers, freeing his cock from it’s confines. He let his hardening cock plop against her ass, and gave it a few slaps with it. Arya mewled and pressed back against him, grinding herself against his hardness.

“Excited for Southern cock, I see.” He teased. Arya didn’t fully want to give in to his taunts of the north, despite him being right; her juices ran down her leg at the feeling of him.

Joffrey grabbed Arya by her hips, and lined himself up with her entrance. In one fell swoop, he drove his hips forward and pulled her back, filling her completely, and tearing through her maidenhead. 

Arya groaned and gritted her teeth as her ‘innocence’ was torn away. She tried to control her breathing as her cunt adjusted and shaped itself to his size. Joffrey on the other hand was in pure and complete bliss, praising the Seven for bringing him a woman with such a fiery spirit, and tight warm quim.

“Does it hurt?” Joffrey asked? Arya just groaned in response, earning her a sharp smack to the ass. “I asked you a question.”

“Yes….” She said after a moment.

“Do you want to stop?” He asked, letting concern spill into his voice. Arya turned her head and gave him an incredulous look.

“Fuck no!”

Joffrey just gave her a toothy grin, before pumping his hips, fucking her. 

‘Gentle’ and ‘restraint’, weren’t words in Joffrey’s vocabulary, so he set a brutal pace, hands gripping her hips hard enough to bruise, snapping his hips against her round ass, being swallowed by her cunt. Anyone who walked into the Godswood at that moment likely would be able to hear the slapping noises they were making from the entrance.

Arya took his brutal fucking with stride, throwing her hips back to meet his thrusts. The mix of pain and pleasure was intoxicating to her, and the longer he fucked her, less pain she felt, and the more the pleasure grew.

“Fuck...fuck...fuck” She moaned as he railed her. Joffrey let one of his hands thread itself through Arya’s brown hair, and pulled, forcing her head up, and back to arch into him. She now was looking straight at The Heart Tree, her family’s most sacred idol, as she was having her cunt drilled by the southern prince. 

“Wonder what your tree god thinks, watching you get fucked” He groaned harshly into her ear. Arya shivered and moaned at his taunts. Part of her, a small part, wanted to defend her people’s religion, but that part was currently being drowned out by the part of her wanting to come around his hard cock. 

“GODS” Joffrey said dramatically. “If you disapprove of me defiling a maiden in front of you, strike me down where I stand!” He boomed, giving Arya an extra hard thrust just for good measure. He stilled, enjoying the feeling of her clenching around him, as he waited for his smiting. When nothing happened, he gave a childlike laugh, and resumed ramming into her.

“See? Your silly northern gods are NOTHING.” He said harshly. Arya could do nothing but groan as she felt herself growing close to her climax. “Just silly superstitions. But you knew that. If you didn’t you wouldn’t be here giving yourself to me, like a good whore.”

Arya’s knees were growing weak, trembling as he fucked her faster and faster, almost as if his taunts were giving him more energy to destroy her cunt with. His words were getting to her as well. In her fuck filled haze, she found herself agreeing with Joffrey about the North, and their silly, inferior ways. The old gods, the cold, her family that never understood her, Joffrey’s words rang true in her ears, along with his moans and grunts.

“You’ll fit right in in King's Landing. Beautiful, sexy” He breathed out shakily. He was close to his limit too. “By the Seven I can’t wait to see you in a tight southern dress, just so I can tear it off!” 

Joffrey landed another smack to her ass, and that was all it took to send her over the edge and take her peak. Her cunt tightened around him, and her legs stiffened and shook as her orgasm ripped through her. 

“YESSSSSS….” She moaned as her cunt gushed. Joffrey followed soon behind her, roaring into her ear, and hilting himself deep in her. He shot one, two, three, and then 4 thick and heavy ropes of his fertile cum into her. Arya pushed and grinded her hips back, making sure to extract every last drop she could from him.

“That’s right. Take my seed.” He moaned. “Take all of me.”

Arya nearly came once again at his words, as he rocked his hips shallowly in her. Arya could’ve stayed like this forever, full of him, forgetting all her problems. Just her and him. Eventually, he pulled out, letting his cock flop down between her legs. Arya squeezed her cunt together, trying to keep his seed in her, not wanting to waste it. He turned her around, and pressed a kiss to her mouth, this one soft and passionate. After a while, he pulled back, and the two just looked at each other in comfortable silence.

“I can’t wait to take you to my home.” Joffrey said earnestly.

“I can’t wait to make it MY home.” She replied.

They stood there in each other's arms, in the Winterfell godswood, dreaming about being far, far away from.  
____________________________________________________________________________

Clegane’s tent was farther than she thought it’d be. 

Though technically a personal guard, and permitted to stay in the walls of Winterfell. The Mountain chose to stay in a personal tent outside the walls, close to, but not within the encampment of the Crown’s men. This actually worked in Catelyn’s favor, meaning she could move about without the greater risk of being seen by either her, or the King’s men. 

She arrived at his tent, and proceeded to stand outside of it for 10 minutes. 

She….was nervous, but not afraid. She couldn’t be afraid of him anymore, not after what he did for her son. He was there for her son…..and her husband wasn’t. Gregor Clegane, The Mountain, the man who forced himself on her and brought her to climax, the man who fucked her throat like she was some common whore, the man who had horror stories written about him -had saved her son. 

“Are you going to stand out there all fucking night?”

His voice bombing through the night here made her jump. Clegane opened his tent flap, and was standing there looking at her expectantly. She looked at him, and then to her surroundings, making absolutely sure no one was there, before walking forward into his tent. 

Unsurprisingly his large tent was lightly furnished. Just a large hay bed, along with a trunk for his belongings, a table and chair, and a fire pit in the middle.

“May I sit?” She asked, unsure of what to say. She was the lady of these lands, so she didn’t actually need his permission, but she still felt the need to seek it. The Mountain just grunted and gave a tight nod. 

Instead of going to the chair, Catelyn moved to his bed, and took a seat. Clegane arched a large eyebrow at her.

“My son….Bran. He’s injured- injured horribly. But the maester thinks he can survive if they keep up his treatment.” 

Catelyn was struggling to get the words out. Just talking about it was a challenge for her.

“ The Maester said….Maester Luwin Said had it been any, longer he would’ve died.” She explained, holding back her tears. Clegane didn’t respond. He just looked down at her and let her continue.

“You are the only reason my son is still alive” She said, voice just barely above a whisper. She was standing now, stepping closer to the humongous man so she was just mere inches away from him. “And for that….I'm forever thankful. Forever grateful to you.”

She placed her hand on his broad chest. She could feel his strong muscular under his leisure shirt. She nearly shivered at how it felt in her hand.

“And because I’m grateful, you can request anything of me. Ask, and I’ll make it so with all the powers I have as the Lady of The North.” She said breathlessly. “So Clegane….what is it that you want?” 

“You know what I want, or you wouldn’t be here right now.” He said simply. Catelyn almost felt herself smile. He could be clever when he wanted.

“Yes, I suppose you’re right.” She said. Catelyn took a step back, so that The Mountain could see her fully. She shrugged off the long fur she was wearing to keep warm, revealing her nude form underneath. Clegane inclined his head upward, in silent approval.

“Well?” She asked teasingly. “Come and get your prize.”

A moment later, he was on her, lifting her by her waist, to press a hard kiss to her mouth. Catelyn wrapped her arms around his neck, and kissed back fiercely. It dawned on her that this was the first time they kissed. He had bent her over and fucked her, and made her swallow his seed, but they never shared something as simple as a kiss. She thought that she could get used to it: the passion of his mouth on hers, the way his large tongue moved in her mouth. She hadn’t kissed Ned with this much passion in years, maybe even ever. She felt so young. All she felt over the last 2 days, was dread, fear, anger. She wanted to feel something else. She NEEDED to feel something else. She needed to feel Clegane again.

Catelyn pulled her mouth, breathing heavily.

“Oh gods Clegane, just fucking take me.” She demanded lewdly. “How do you want me?”

The large man thought for a moment, running his hands over Catelyn’s sizable ass as he contemplated. After a several seconds, he set Catelyn down, much to her internal protest - she liked the feeling of having him hold her up - and moved to his bed to lay down. He got himself comfortable, and pointed at his manhood straining in his pants. 

“Ride” was all he said, and all Catelyn needed to hear. She moved to the foot of the bed, and began to seductively crawl towards him. She settled herself between his large thighs, and reached up to the waistband of his trousers. He’d already untied them, allowing her to pull them down his hips and large legs. She pulled them completely off, leaving his lower half exposed, while he worked at getting his shirt off. 

‘Gods, he’s just so...much’, She thought, appreciating the whole size of him once again. 

His cock was still only half hard, so Catelyn decided it was time to get him fully hard. She kneeled on all fours between his prone form, and placed a large open mouth kiss to his cockhead, and then another. She proceeded to make-out with his tip, wetting her lips on it, and slathering it with her tongue. She brought her hand up, to stroke him while continuing to drool and kiss all over his cock, lubing it up, and bringing him to his full, massive length, Once satisfied that he his cock was sufficiently covered in saliva, she stood up on his bed, and maneuvered herself over his cock. 

‘I told him never again, and here I am about to impale myself on his beast...I suppose things change.’

Catelyn began to bend her knees, and sink down on his manhood. Clegane just watched, arms folded behind his head, as she lowered herself onto him, an inch at a time. It had been weeks since he took her in the Winterfell dungeon, and Catelyn almost forgot how massive he felt in her, stretching her walls to unfathomable lengths. She groaned as she sank a quarter way down his cock, which was over 6 inches. 

“Fuuuuuckk….” She moaned. It hurt, but it hurt so GOOD. Having to deal with Ned’s….lacking in his manhood, Catelyn was never able to realize that she was an absolute size queen. As she got more and more of his cock in her, and her cunt dripped and gripped him, she couldn’t imagine having a cock any smaller inside of her.

Suddenly, Catelyn’s foot slips. Her foot slips from under her, making her lose her balance completely, and freefall onto his massive rod. The sudden intrusion of his full length caused her to scream out in a mixture of pain, and bliss. She felt him in her stomach. She could SEE him in her stomach, bulging out, making its presence known. She just sat there, on his cock for a while, walls clenching around him, in a haze. A sudden slap to her large tits, snapped her out of it.

“RIDE” He ordered once again. Collecting herself, Catelyn began rocking her hips on his dick. Sided to side, back and forth, feeling him grind against the walls of her cunt. Clegane’s large hands went to her tits, groping them as she grinded herself on him.

“Cleganes...Clegane...Clegane-” She moaned with her eyes closed. He gave a sharp upward thrust of his hips, causing her eyes to snap open and look at him.

“Gregor.” He grunted. “You will call me Gregor.”

“Gregor….gods” She moaned one again. Saying his given name felt weird on her tongue, but it was certainly something she could get used to.

Catelyn readjusted herself, so that her feet were flat against the bedding, and her hands could rest on Clegane’s rib cage. Slowly, she began to bounce her on his cock, ass jiggling everytime it came down and made contact with his thighs. Clegane let his hands slide to her hips so he could control and guide her motions, leaving her tits to swing and bounce in the air. 

-SLAP SLAP SLAP SLAP- filled the tent, as she began to bounce faster and faster on his cock, building to her imminent orgasm. Gregor was thrusting upwards, to meet her, forcing his cock ever so deep into her, deeper than she ever knew. 

She was in heaven. Her son, Ned, her general unhappiness; all fell to the wayside as she rode and bounced on his cock. He was her respite. He was her escape.

“I want to feel your cum in me, please…” She moaned, legs growing weaker as she knew she was about to cum “My cunt is yours! Oh god Gregor, it’s all yours! GregorGregorGREGOR!”

Catelyn let out a howl resembling a cat as she came. Gregor followed right behind her, pulling her hips flush to his, as he began to cum inside of her. His load was huge, filling her womb completely in just one shot, and the other 2 shots causing her belly to bugle slightly as it fought for space. Her mouth opened in an ‘O’ as her screams fell silent, and was replaced by her whimpering and throaty mewling.

She fell forward, head landing on his chest as she finally came down from her high. She laid there, feeling more comfortable than she had in months. Gregor, to her surprise lightly stroked her hair as she laid on him. 

She could’ve stayed like that for days. 

But...she knew she had to go. She had to get back to her son. Her son lying in bed, fighting for his life. Begrudgingly, rolls off of Gregor, and stood, his cum dripping out of her, streaming down her leg.

“I have to go now.” She said hoarsely, throat sore from screaming. Clegane looked at her, and just nodded. “I-” She started. She was at a loss for words. What do you say to the monster that you found comfort in?

“I’ll come and see you again. Soon” She said simply. To her surprise, her genuine shock. He gave her a small smile.

“Ok.”

She looked at him, waiting for any more words, but there were none. There didn’t need to be.

“Ok” She repeated back, pulling on her furs. She gave him one last look, before exiting his tent, and heading back to the castle.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed!
> 
> follow me on twitter and join my discord!
> 
> https://twitter.com/icet666  
> https://discord.gg/BSGNPMsEc8


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